UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

School  of  Library 

S<sienoe 


J80U81 
Tees dale 


187-93U 


Rainbow  gold 


UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


00022229553 


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Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

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RAINBOW  GOLD 


THE    MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

NEW  YORK   •    BOSTON   •   CHICAGO   •   DALLAS 
ATLANTA   •   SAN  FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN  &  CO..  Limited 

LONDON  •    BOMBAY   •   CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OP  CANADA.  Ltd. 

TORONTO 


RAINBOW  GOLD 

POEMS  OLD  AND  NEW 

SELECTED  FOR  BOYS  AND    GIRLS 

By  SARA  TEASDALE 

WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS 

By  DUGALD  WALKER 


iBteto  |9orfc 
THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

1926 

All  rights  reserved 


COPTEIGHT,  1922, 

By  THE  MACMILLAN  CO. 


Set  up  and  published  September,  1922 


PRINTED   IN   THE    UNITED   STATES    OF   AMERICA   BV 
THE   BERWICK    U   SMITH   CO. 


LIBRARY    UN1V      OF 
WRTH  CAROLINA 
J 

SOB.K1 


TO  THE  BEAUTIFUL  MEMORY 

OF  MY  FATHER 

JOHN  WARREN  TEASDALE 


RAINBOW   GOLD 


PREFATORY  NOTE 

Every  anthologist  must  adopt  some  plan  for  making  selec- 
tions. Mine  has  been  very  simple.  I  have  made  a  small 
collection  of  poems  that  would  have  pleased  the  child  I  used 
to  be  and  the  boy  who  was  my  playmate.  Above  all  things  I 
have  striven  to  keep  the  book  small,  for  the  big  books  of 
poetry  on  our  shelves  were  always  left  to  themselves.  It 
was  the  little  books  that  became  our  intimate  com- 
panions. 

To  make  a  selection  for  boys  and  girls  from  the  countless 
riches  of  lyric  poetry  in  our  language,  and  to  reduce  that 
selection  to  the  contents  of  so  small  a  book  as  this  one,  is 
a  grave  task.  It  involves  the  exclusion  on  the  grounds  of 
mere  lack  of  space,  of  so  much  that  one  loves.  I  should  have 
liked  to  make  a  book  of  this  size  containing  only  Elizabethan 
songs  and  early  English  ballads,  another  entirely  devoted 
to  Georgian  and  Victorian  poets,  a  third  to  living  writers, 
and  a  fourth  to  child-rhymes,  parodies,  nonsense  verses  and 

15] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


the  like.  If  the  grown-up  reader  regrets  omissions,  I  beg 
him  to  be  sympathetic  toward  the  compiler,  who  has  been  a 
prey  to  those  same  regrets  constantly  during  the  year  in 
which  she  has  been  at  work  on  the  book.  Alas  that  a  volume 
cannot  have  the  advantages  of  being  both  a  big  book  and  a 
little  one  at  the  same  time! 

In  selecting  the  poems  for  the  girl  and  boy  who  used  to  be, 
I  have  tried  always  to  read  with  their  eyes.  I  have  been 
guided  from  first  to  last  by  their  enjoyment  or  their  bore- 
dom. The  poems  that  they  loved  best  had  highly  accented 
rhythms,  and  took  them  into  "a  land  of  clear  colors  and 
stories."  They  enjoyed  certain  sad  poems  as  much  as  merry 
ones,  but  meditative,  moralistic  and  gloomy  poems  were 
never  read  but  once,  if  they  were  read  at  all.  And  I  am  glad 
to  say  that  poems  full  of  sentimentality  fared  no  better.  I 
have  brought  together  much  that  has  been  written  since  they 
were  children,  and  boys  and  girls  of  to-day  will  find  among 
these  poems  many  of  the  most  enjoyable  things  in  the  book. 
To  mention  only  one  recent  poet  that  they  would  have  loved, 
Walter  de  la  Mare,  is  to  realize  how  much  a  child  has  missed 
who  does  not  possess  his  inimitable  "Peacock  Pie." 

A  child's  enjoyment,  as  I  said  above,  is  what  I  have  striven 
for  in  this  collection.  We  who  have  seen  how  poetry  has 
come  to  our  rescue  with  its  delight,  its  healing,  and  its  new 
courage  in  times  of  stress  and  sorrow,  know  that  it  is  an 
inestimable  possession.  We  cannot  come  to  the  knowledge  of 
it  too  early.  If  we  can  have  a  clear  personal  realization  while 
we  are  children,  that  we  love  poetry,  no  amount  of  well- 

[6] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


meaning  but  sometimes  tactless  and  uninspired  teaching  of 
it  in  schools  and  colleges  can  shake  us  in  the  knowledge  of 
that  love.  I  remember  that  the  first  poem  I  was  condemned 
to  learn  by  heart  in  school  was  "The  Builders"  by  Longfel- 
low. I  say  condemned,  but  it  was  not  as  a  punishment. 
Every  child  in  the  class  had  to  learn  it.  It  is  one  of  the 
poems  that  I  am  sure  the  poet  himself  would  never  have 
given  to  a  child  to  learn,  beginning,  as  grown-up  readers  will 
remember : 

"All  are  Architects  of  Fate 
Working  in  these  walls  of  Time." 

After  committing  the  nine  stanzas  of  this  poem  to  memory, 
it  took  me  a  long  time  to  grow  willing  to  read  the  stirring 
things  that  the  same  poet  has  written,  poems  as  interesting 
as  this  one  is  humdrum. 

But  education  is  better  managed  now  than  then.  Teachers 
and  parents  alike  have  come  to  feel  that  the  love  of  poetry 
in  general  is  more  to  be  desired  for  children  than  the  knowl- 
edge of  certain  "well  known"  poems,  no  matter  how  good, 
or  even  how  great,  these  poems  may  be.  Besides  a  more  tact- 
fully managed  education  in  the  schools,  there  are  children's 
rooms  in  the  public  libraries.  I  have  wished  many  times 
during  the  months  spent  in  making  this  book,  when  visits  to 
these  rooms  were  an  inspiration,  that  I  might  have  browsed 
among  the  low  shelves  long  ago  in  childhood,  and  talked  with 
the  same  delightful  librarians.  I  should  like  to  express  my 
thanks  to  these  librarians,  who  have  been  so  kind  in  various 

[7] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


ways.  I  want  especially  to  thank  Annie  Carroll  Moore,  Su- 
pervisor of  Work  with  Children  in  the  New  York  Public 
Library,  who  knows  the  heart  of  a  child  from  long  travelling 
on  "The  Roads  to  Childhood." 

In  closing  I  shall  quote  briefly  from  the  introduction  by 
Andrew  Lang  to  his  anthology  for  children,  "The  Blue  Po- 
etry Book,"  for  he  speaks  my  own  thoughts  better  than  I  can 
express  them:  "It  does  not  appear  to  the  Editor  that  poems 
about  children,  or  especially  intended  for  children,  are  those 
which  a  child  likes  best.  A  child's  imaginative  life  is  spent 
in  the  unknown  future,  and  in  the  romantic  past.  .  .  . 
The  poems  written  for  and  about  children  rather  appeal  to 
the  old,  whose  own  childhood  is  now  to  them  a  distant  fairy 
world,  as  the  man's  life  is  to  the  child.  .  .  .  We  make  a 
mistake  when  we  'write  down'  to  children;  still  more  do  we 
err  when  we  tell  a  child  not  to  read  this  or  that  because  he 
cannot  understand  it.  He  understands  far  more  than  we 
give  him  credit  for,  but  nothing  that  can  harm  him.  The 
half-understanding  of  it,  too,  the  sense  of  a  margin  beyond, 
as  in  a  wood  full  of  unknown  glades  and  birds  and  flowers 
unfamiliar,  is  a  great  part  of  a  child's  pleasure  in  reading. 
.  .  .  The  child  does  not  want  everything  to  be  explained. 
In  the  unexplained  is  great  pleasure." 

A  number  of  my  friends  have  been  kind  in  giving  me  the 
names  of  poems  that  they  liked  best  when  they  were  chil- 
dren. The  small  compass  of  the  book  has  made  it  impossible 
to  use  all  of  the  poems  suggested  in  this  way,  but  it  has  been  a 
pleasure  to  include  as  many  of  them  as  I  could.   I  want  to 

[8] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


acknowledge  very  gratefully  my  indebtedness  for  counsel 
and  suggestions  to  John  Gould  Fletcher,  Vachel  Lindsay, 
Amy  Lowell,  Jessie  B.  Rittenhouse,  Louis  Untermeyer,  Jean 
Untermeyer,  John  Hall  Wheelock  and  Marguerite  Wilkin- 
son. 

Sara  Teasdale 
New  York  City,  1922 


9] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

Thanks  are  due  the  following  publishers  for  permission  to 
include  the  poems  enumerated  below: 

To  Messrs.  Constable  &  Co.,  for  "Berries,"  "Jim  Jay,"  and  "Off  the 
Ground,"  by  Walter  de  la  Mare. 

To  Messrs.  Doubleday,  Page  &  Co.,  for  "A  Prayer,"  by  Edwin  Mark- 
ham,  and  "O  Captain!  My  Captain,"  by  Walt  Whitman. 

To  Messrs.  Harper  &  Brothers  for  "When  the  Hounds  of  Spring,"  by 
AlgernoD  Charles  Swinburne. 

To  Messrs.  Henry  Holt  &  Co.,  for  "Good  Hours,"  by  Robert  Frost; 
and  "Berries,"  "Jim  Jay"  and  "Off  the  Ground"  from  "Peacock  Pie," 
by  Walter  de  la  Mare. 

To  Messrs.  Houghton  Mifflin  Co.,  by  whose  permission  and  by  special 
arrangement  with  whom  the  following  poems  are  included:  "Fable," 
by  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson;  "The  Fountain,"  by  James  Russell  Lowell; 
"My  Lost  Youth,"  and  "The  Skeleton  in  Armor,"  by  Henry  Wadsworth 
Longfellow;  and  "A  Song  for  My  Mother,"  by  Anna  Hempstead  Branch. 

To  Mr.  Alfred  Knopf  for  "Nature's  Friend,"  by  William  H.  Davies. 

To  Messrs.  Little,  Brown  &  Co.,  for  "The  Snow,"  by  Emily  Dickinson. 

To  The  Macmillan  Co.,  for  "The  Fairies,"  and  "The  Lepracaun," 
by  William  Allingham;  "The  Forsaken  Merman,"  by  Matthew  Arnold; 
"The  Pied  Piper  of  Hamelin,"  and  "Song:  The  Year's  at  the  Spring," 
by  Robert  Browning;  "The  Terrible  Robber  Men,"  by  Padraic  Colum; 
"Moon  Folly,"  by  Fannie  Stearns  Gifford;  "Time,  You  Old  Gipsy  Man," 
by  Ralph  Hodgson;   "Sea  Fever,"  by  John  Masefield;  "A  Christmas 

[111 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Carol,"  by  Christina  Rossetti;  "The  Song  of  Wandering  Aengus,"  by 
William  Butler  Yeats;  and  "The  Ghosts  of  the  Buffaloes,"  by  Vachel 
Lindsay. 

To  Messrs.  Macmillan  &  Co.,  for  "The  Fairies,"  and  "The  Lepracaun," 
by  William  Allingham;  "The  Forsaken  Merman,"  by  Matthew  Arnold; 
and  "A  Christmas  Carol,"  by  Christina  Rossetti. 

To  The  Poetry  Bookshop  for  "Star-Talk,"  by  Robert  Graves. 

To  Messrs.  Charles  Scribner's  Sons  for  "Song  of  the  Chattahoochee," 
by  Sidney  Lanier  from  "Poems  of  Sidney  Lanier";  copyright  1884,  1891, 
1918  by  Mary  D.  Lanier,  by  permission  of  the  publishers;  and  "Escape 
at  Bedtime,"  and  "Romance,"  by  Robert  Louis  Stevenson. 

To  Messrs.  Frederick  A.  Stokes  Co.,  for  "Tree-Toad,"  by  Hilda  Conk- 
ling;  and  "A  Song  of  Sherwood,"  by  Alfred  Noyes,  from  his  Collected 
Poems,  Volume  I. 

To  the  living  poets  who  have  generously  allowed  their 
poems  to  appear  in  this  book,  the  compiler  expresses  grate- 
ful thanks. 


[12] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


CONTENTS 

page 

Kubla.  Khan 

Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge 

19 

Meg  Merrilies 

John  Keats 

22. 

Berries 

Walter  de  la  Mare 

24 

Romance 

Robert  Louis  Stevenson 

28 

Hymn  of  Pan 

Percy  Bysshe  Shelley 

29 

Written  in  March 

William  Wordsworth 

31 

"When  the  Hounds  of  Spring" 

Algernon  Charles  Swinburne 

32 

Song 

Robert  Browning 

36 

"Under  the  Greenwood  Tree" 

William  Shakespeare 

37 

To  Violets 

Robert  Herrick 

38 

On  May  Morning 

John  Milton 

39 

The  Lepracaun 

William  Allingham 

40 

Hunting  Song 

Sir  Walter  Scott 

44 

The  Lady  of  Shalott^- 

Alfred  Tennyson 

46 

Hymn  to  Diana 

Ben  Jonson 

59 

The  Song  of  Wandering  Aengus 

William  Butler  Yeats 

60 

The  Shepherd  to  His  Love 

Christopher  Marlowe 

62 

Robin  Hood  and  the  Butcher 

Author  Unknown 

64 

A  Sea  Song 

Allan  Cunningham 

72 

Epitaph  on  a  Hare 

William  Cowper 

73 

The  Pilgrim 

John  Bunyan 

76 

Lullaby  for  Titania 

William  Shakespeare 

78 

Israfel 

Edgar  Allan  Poe 

82 

Jaffar 

Leigh  Hunt 

87 

13 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


A  Song  of  Sherwood 
The  Destruction  of  Sennacherib 
Ivry 

The  Tiger 

The  Terrible  Robber  Men 
Sir  Patrick  Spens 
"Blow,  Blow,  Thou  Winter  Wind" 
The  Pied  Piper  of  Hamelin 
"Time,  You  Old  Gipsy  Man" 
The  Solitary  Reaper 
My  Lost  Youth 
Battle  Hymn  of  the  Republic 
Gathering  Song  of  Donald  Dhu 
The  Minstrel-Boy 
Bannockburn 
Fable 

Good  Hours 
Winter 

A  Chanted  Calendar 
The  Cloud 
Bugle  Song 
The  Forsaken  Merman 
Nurse's  Song 
To  a  Mouse 
The  Fairies 

La  Belle  Dame  Sans  Merci 
Spring 

"I  Wandered  Lonely" 
\    The  Gay  Gos-Hawk 
An  Old  Song  of  Fairies 
Moon  Folly 
Star-Talk 
Jim  Jay 


Alfred  Npyes  89 

Lord  Byron  92 
Thomas  Babington  Macaulay   94 

William  Blake  98 

Padraic  Colum  100 

Author  Unknown  101 

William  Shakespeare  108 

Robert  Browning  109 

Ralph  Hodgson  124 

William  Wordsworth  128 
Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow  180 

Julia  Ward  Howe  133 

Sir  Walter  Scott  135 

Thomas  Moore  137 

Robert  Burns  138 

Ralph  Waldo  Emerson  140 

Robert  Frost  141 

William  Shakespeare  142/ 

Sydney  Dobell  143 

Percy  Bysshe  Shelley  145 

Alfred  Tennyson  151 

Matthew  Arnold     i  152 

William  Blake  158 

Robert  Burns  159 

William  Allingham  162 

John  Keats  168 

Thomas  Nashe  175 

William  Wordsworth  176 

Author  Unknown  178 

Author  Unknown  186 

Fannie  Stearns  Gijford  189 

Robert  Graves  193 

Walter  de  la  Mare  197. 


[14] 


RAINBOW 

GOLD 

The  Ghosts  of  the  Buffaloes 

Vachel  Lindsay 

199 

A  Christmas  Carol 

Christina  Rossetti 

203 

Escape  at  Bedtime 

Robert  Louis  Stevenson 

205 

Song  of  the  Chattahoochee 

Sidney  Lanier 

206 

Sea  Fever 

John  Masefield 

211 

0  Captain!  My  Captain! 

Walt  Whitman 

212 

The  Snow 

Emily  Dickinson 

214 

A  Song  for  My  Mother 

Anna  Hempstead  Branch 

215 

The  Fountain 

James  Russell  Lowell 

217 

Nature's  Friend 

William  H.  Davies 

221 

Tree-Toad 

Hilda  Conkling 

223 

An  Ancient  Christmas  Carol 

Author  Unknown 

225 

An  Old  Christmas  Carol 

Author  Unknown 

226 

King  John  and  the  Abbot  of  Canter- 

bury 

Author  Unknown 

228 

The  Sands  of  Dee 

Charles  Kingsley 

234 

Sister,  Awake! 

Author  Unknown 

236 

The  Skeleton  in  Armor 

Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow  237 

By  Bendemeer's  Stream 

Thomas  Moore 

244 

A  Prayer 

Edwin  Markham 

245 

Young  Lochinvar 

Sir  Walter  Scott 

246 

Off  the  Ground 

Walter  de  la  Mare 

249 

Auld  Daddy  Darkness 

James  Ferguson 

256 

See  page  259,  index  of  authors  with  dates ; 

page  265,  index  of  first  lines. 

U5] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


Kubla  Khan 

Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge 

Frontispiece 

"When  the  Hounds  or  Spring" 

Algernon  Charles  Swinburne 

i    33 

The  Lady  of  Shalott 

Alfred  Tennyson 

51 

Hymn  to  Diana 

Ben  Jonson 

58 

Robin  Hood  and  the  Butcher 

Author  Unknown 

69 

LuiiLABY  FOB  TlTANIA 

William  Shakespeare 

79 

IsBAFEIi 

Edgar  Allan  Poe 

83 

Sib  Patrick  Spens 

Author  Unknown 

105 

"Time,  You  Old  Gipsy  Man" 

Ralph  Hodgson 

125 

The  Cloud 

Percy  Bysshe  Shelley 

147 

The  Fairies 

William  Allingham 

165 

La  Belle  Dame  Sans  Merci 

John  Keats 

169 

Spring 

Thomas  Nashe 

174 

Moon  Folly 

Fannie  Stearns  Gifford 

191 

Star-Talk 

Robert  Graves 

195 

Sea  Fever 

John  Masefield 

210 

The  Fountain 

James  Russell  Lowell 

219 

Off  the  Ground 

Walter  de  la  Mare 

251 

17 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


KUBLA  KHAN 

A  Visio?i  in  a  Dream 

In  Xanadu  did  Kubla  Khan 
A  stately  pleasure-dome  decree: 
Where  Alph,  the  sacred  river,  ran 
Through  caverns  measureless  to  man 

Down  to  a  sunless  sea. 
So  twice  five  miles  of  fertile  ground 
With  walls  and  towers  were  girdled  round : 
And  there  were  gardens  bright  with  sinuous  rills 
Where  blossom'd  many  an  incense-bearing  tree; 
And  here  were  forests  ancient  as  the  hills, 
Enfolding  sunny  spots  of  greenery. 

But  oh !  that  deep  romantic  chasm  which  slanted 

Down  the  green  hill  athwart  a  cedarn  cover! 

A  savage  place !  as  holy  and  enchanted 

As  e'er  beneath  a  waning  moon  was  haunted 

By  woman  wailing  for  her  demon-lover ! 

And  from  this  chasm,  with  ceaseless  turmoil  seething 

As  if  this  earth  in  fast  thick  pants  were  breathing, 

A  mighty  fountain  momently  was  forced : 

Amid  whose  swift  half -intermitted  burst 

Huge  fragments  vaulted  like  rebounding  hail, 

Or  chaffy  grain  beneath  the  thresher's  flail; 

And  'mid  these  dancing  rocks  at  once  and  ever 

[19] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


It  flung  up  momently  the  sacred  river. 
Five  miles  meandering  with  a  mazy  motion 
Through  wood  and  dale  the  sacred  river  ran, 
Then  reach'd  the  caverns  measureless  to  man, 
And  sank  in  tumult  to  a  lifeless  ocean: 
And  'mid  this  tumult  Kubla  heard  from  far 
Ancestral  voices  prophesying  war! 

The  shadow  of  the  dome  of  pleasure 

Floated  midway  on  the  waves; 

Where  was  heard  the  mingled  measure 

From  the  fountain  and  the  caves. 

It  was  a  miracle  of  rare  device, 

A  sunny  pleasure-dome  with  caves  of  ice! 

A  damsel  with  a  dulcimer 

In  a  vision  once  I  saw: 

It  was  an  Abyssinian  maid, 

And  on  her  dulcimer  she  played, 

Singing  of  Mount  Abora. 

Could  I  revive  within  me 

Her  symphony  and  song, 

To  such  a  deep  delight  'twould  win  me 

That  with  music  loud  and  long, 

I  would  build  that  dome  in  air, 

That  sunny  dome!  Those  caves  of  ice! 

And  all  who  heard  should  see  them  there 

And  all  should  cry,  Beware!  Beware! 

His  flashing  eyes,  his  floating  hair! 

[20] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Weave  a  circle  round  him  thrice, 
And  close  your  eyes  with  holy  dread 
For  he  on  honey-dew  hath  fed, 
And  drunk  the  milk  of  Paradise. 

Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge 


UU 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


MEG  MERRILIES 

OLd  Meg  she  was  a  Gipsy, 
And  liv'd  upon  the  Moors: 

Her  bed  it  was  the  brown  heath  turf, 
And  her  house  was  out  of  doors. 


22 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Her  apples  were  swart  blackberries, 

Her  currants  pods  o'  broom; 
Her  wine  was  dew  of  the  wild  white  rose, 

Her  book  a  churchyard  tomb. 

Her  Brothers  were  the  craggy  hills, 

Her  Sisters  larchen  trees — - 
Alone  with  her  great  family 

She  liv'd  as  she  did  please. 

No  breakfast  had  she  many  a  morn, 

No  dinner  many  a  noon, 
And  'stead  of  supper  she  would  stare 

Full  hard  against  the  Moon. 

But  every  morn  of  woodbine  fresh 

She  made  her  garlanding, 
And  every  night  the  dark  glen  Yew 

She  wove,  and  she  would  sing. 

And  with  her  fingers  old  and  brown 

She  plaited  Mats  o'  Rushes, 
And  gave  them  to  the  Cottagers 

She  met  among  the  Bushes. 

Old  Meg  was  brave  as  Margaret  Queen 

And  tall  as  Amazon: 
An  old  red  blanket  cloak  she  wore; 

A  chip  hat  had  she  on. 
God  rest  her  aged  bones  somewhere — 

She  died  full  long  agone ! — John  Keats 

[23] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


BERRIES 

There  was  an  old  woman 

Went  blackberry  picking 
Along  the  hedges 

From  Weep  to  Wicking. 
Half  a  pottle — 

No  more  she  had  got, 
When  out  steps  a  Fairy 

From  her  green  grot; 
And  says,  "Well,  Jill, 

Would  'ee  pick  *ee  mo?" 
And  Jill,  she  curtseys, 

And  looks  just  so. 
"Be  off,"  says  the  Fairy, 

"As  quick  as  you  can, 
Over  the  meadows 

To  the  little  green  lane, 
That  dips  to  the  hayfields 

Of  Farmer  Grimes: 
I've  berried  those  hedges 

[24] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


A  score  of  times; 
Bushel  on  bushel 

I'll  promise  'ee,  Jill, 
This  side  of  supper 

If  'ee  pick  with  a  will." 
She  glints  very  bright, 

And  speaks  her  fair; 
Then  lo,  and  behold! 

She  has  faded  in  air. 

Be  sure  old  Goodie 

She  trots  betimes 
Over  the  meadows 

To  Farmer  Grimes. 
And  never  was  queen 

With  jewellery  rich 
As  those  same  hedges 

From  twig  to  ditch; 
Like  Dutchmen's  coffers, 

Fruit,  thorn,  and  flower — 
They  shone  like  William 

And  Mary's  bower. 
And  be  sure  Old  Goodie 

Went  back  to  Weep, 
So  tired  with  her  basket 

She  scarce  could  creep. 
When  she  comes  in  the  dusk 

To  her  cottage  door, 

1251 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


There's  Towser  wagging 

As  never  before, 
To  see  his  Missus 

So  glad  to  be 
Come  from  her  fruit-picking 

Back  to  he. 


[26] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


And  soon  as  next  morning 

Dawn  was  grey, 
The  pot  on  the  hob 

Was  simmering  away; 
And  all  in  a  stew 

And  a  hugger-mugger 
Towser  and  Jill 

A-boiling  of  sugar, 
And  the  dark  clear  fruit 

That  from  Faerie  came, 
For  syrup  and  jelly 

And  blackberry  jam. 

Twelve  jolly  gallipots 

Jill  put  by; 
And  one  little  teeny  one, 

One  inch  high; 
And  that  she's  hidden 

A  good  thumb  deep, 
Half  way  over 

From  Wicking  to  Weep. 


Walter  de  la  Mare 


[27] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


ROMANCE 

I  will  make  you  brooches  and  toys  for  your  delight 
Of  bird-song  at  morning  and  star-shine  at  night. 
I  will  make  a  palace  fit  for  you  and  me, 
Of  green  days  in  forests  and  blue  days  at  sea. 

I  will  make  my  kitchen,  and  you  shall  keep  your  room, 
Where  white  flows  the  river  and  bright  blows  the  broom, 
And  you  shall  wash  your  linen  and  keep  your  body  white 
In  rainfall  at  morning  and  dewfall  at  night. 

And  this  shall  be  for  music  when  no  one  else  is  near 
The  fine  song  for  singing,  the  rare  song  to  hear! 
That  only  I  remember,  that  only  you  admire, 
Of  the  broad  road  that  stretches  and  the  roadside  fire. 

Robert  Louis  Stevenson 


281 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


HYMN  OF  PAN 

From  the  forests  and  highlands 

We  come,  we  come; 
From  the  river-girt  islands, 

Where  loud  waves  are  dumb, 
Listening  to  my  sweet  pipings. 

The  wind  in  the  reeds  and  the  rushes, 

The  bees  on  the  bells  of  thyme, 
The  birds  on  the  myrtle  bushes, 
The  cicale  above  in  the  lime, 
And  the  lizards  below  in  the  grass, 
Were  as  silent  as  ever  old  Tmolus  was, 
Listening  to  my  sweet  pipings. 

Liquid  Peneus  was  flowing, 

And  all  dark  Tempe  lay 
In  Pelion's  shadow  outgrowing 

The  light  of  the  dying  day, 

[29] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Speeded  by  my  sweet  pipings. 

The  Sileni,  and  Sylvans,  and  Fauns, 

And  the  Nymphs  of  the  woods  and  waves, 
To  the  edge  of  the  moist  river-lawns, 
And  the  brink  of  the  dewy  caves, 
And  all  that  did  then  attend  and  follow, 
Were  silent  with  love,  as  you  now,  Apollo, 
With  envy  of  my  sweet  pipings. 

I  sang  of  the  dancing  Stars, 

I  sang  of  the  daedal  Earth, 
And  of  Heaven,  and  the  giant  wars, 
And  Love,  and  Death,  and  Birth. 
And  then  I  changed  my  pipings — 

Singing  how  down  the  vale  of  Maenalus 

I  pursued  a  maiden,  and  clasped  a  reed: 
Gods  and  men,  we  are  all  deluded  thus; 

It  breaks  in  our  bosom,  and  then  we  bleed. 
All  wept — as  I  think  both  ye  now  would, 
If  envy  or  age  had  not  frozen  your  blood, 
At  the  sorrow  of  my  sweet  pipings. 

Percy  Bysshe  Shelley 


30  1 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


WRITTEN  IN  MARCH 

The  Cock  is  crowing, 

The  stream  is  flowing, 

The  small  birds  twitter, 

The  lake  doth  glitter, 
The  green  field  sleeps  in  the  sun; 

The  oldest  and  youngest 

Are  at  work  with  the  strongest; 

The  cattle  are  grazing, 

Their  heads  never  raising; 
There  are  forty  feeding  like  one! 

Like  an  army  defeated 

The  snow  hath  retreated, 

And  now  doth  fare  ill 

On  the  top  of  the  bare  hill; 
The  ploughboy  is  whooping — anon — anon 

There's  joy  in  the  mountains; 

There's  life  in  the  fountains; 

Small  clouds  are  sailing, 

Blue  sky  prevailing; 
The  rain  is  over  and  gone! 

William  Wordsworil; 


31] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


"WHEN  THE  HOUNDS  OF  SPRING" 

When  the  hounds  of  spring  are  on  winter's  traces, 
The  mother  of  months  in  meadow  or  plain 

Fills  the  shadows  and  windy  places 
With  lisp  of  leaves  and  ripple  of  rain; 

And  the  brown  bright  nightingale  amorous 

Is  half  assuaged  for  Itylus, 

For  the  Thracian  ships  and  the  foreign  faces, 
The  tongueless  vigil,  and  all  the  pain. 

Come  with  bows  bent  and  with  emptying  of  quivers, 

Maiden  most  perfect,  lady  of  light, 
With  a  noise  of  winds  and  many  rivers, 

With  a  clamor  of  waters,  and  with  might; 
Bind  on  thy  sandals,  O  thou  most  fleet, 
Over  the  splendor  and  speed  of  thy  feet; 
For  the  faint  east  quickens,  the  wan  west  shivers, 

Round  the  feet  of  the  day  and  the  feet  of  the  night. 

Where  shall  we  find  her,  how  shall  we  sing  to  her, 
Fold  our  hands  round  her  knees,  and  cling? 

O  that  man's  heart  were  as  fire  and  could  spring  to  her, 
Fire,  or  the  strength  of  the  streams  that  spring! 

For  the  stars  and  the  winds  are  unto  her 

As  raiment,  as  songs  of  the  harp-player; 

For  the  risen  stars  and  the  fallen  cling  to  her, 
And  the  southwest-wind  and  the  west-wind  sing. 

[32] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


For  winter's  rains  and  ruins  are  over, 

And  all  the  season  of  snows  and  sins; 
The  days  dividing  lover  and  lover, 

The  light  that  loses,  the  night  that  wins; 
And  time  remembered  is  grief  forgotten, 
And  frosts  are  slain  and  flowers  begotten, 
And  in  green  underwood  and  cover 

Blossom  by  blossom  the  spring  begins.  . 


Algernon  Charles  Swinburne 


35] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


SONG 

The  year's  at  the  spring, 
And  day's  at  the  morn; 
Morning's  at  seven; 
The  hill-side's  dew-pearled; 
The  lark's  on  the  wing; 
The  snail's  on  the  thorn; 
God's  in  His  Heaven — 
All's  right  with  the  world! 

Robert  Browning 


36] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


UNDER  THE  GREENWOOD  TREE" 

Under  the  greenwood  tree, 
Who  loves  to  lie  with  me, 
And  turn  his  merry  note 
Unto  the  sweet  bird's  throat, 
Come  hither,  come  hither,  come  hither: 
Here  shall  he  see 
No  enemy 
But  winter  and  rough  weather. 

Who  doth  ambition  shun, 
And  loves  to  live  i'  the  sun, 
Seeking  the  food  he  eats, 
And  pleased  with  what  he  gets, 
Come  hither,  come  hither,  come  hither: 
Here  shall  he  see 
No  enemy 
But  winter  and  rough  weather. 

William  Shakespeare 


137; 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


TO  VIOLETS 

Welcome,  maids  of  honor, 

You  do  bring 

In  the  Spring, 
And  wait  upon  her. 
She  has  virgins  many, 

Fresh  and  fair; 

Yet  you  are 
More  sweet  than  any. 

You're  the  maiden  posies, 

And,  so  graced, 

To  be  placed 
'Fore  damask  roses. 
Yet,  though  thus  respected, 

By  and  by 

Ye  do  lie, 
Poor  girls,  neglected. 

Robert  Herrick 


38] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


ON  MAY  MORNING 

Now  the  bright  morning  star,  day's  harbinger, 
Comes  dancing  from  the  east,  and  leads  with  her 
The  flow'ry  May,  who  from  her  green  lap  throws 
The  yellow  cowslip,  and  the  pale  primrose. 
Hail,  bounteous  May,  that  doth  inspire 
Mirth  and  youth  and  warm  desire! 
Woods  and  groves  are  of  thy  dressing, 
Hill  and  dale  doth  boast  thy  blessing. 
Thus  we  salute  thee  with  our  early  song, 
And  welcome  thee,  and  wish  thee  long. 

John  Milton 


[39] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


THE  LEPRACAUN 

OK 

FAIRY  SHOEMAKER 


Little  Cowboy,  what  have  you  heard, 

Up  on  the  lonely  rath's  green  mound? 
Only  the  plaintive  yellow  bird 

Sighing  in  sultry  fields  around, 
Chary,  chary,  chary,  chee-ee! — 
Only  the  grasshopper  and  the  beef — 
"Tip-tap,  rip-rap, 
Tick-a-tack-too ! 
Scarlet  leather,  sewn  together, 
This  will  make  a  shoe. 
Left,  right,  pull  it  tight; 

Summer  days  are  warm; 
Underground  in  winter, 
Laughing  at  the  storm! " 
Lay  your  ear  close  to  the  hill. 
Do  you  not  catch  the  tiny  clamour, 
Busy  click  of  elfin  hammer, 
Voice  of  the  Lepracaun  singing  shrill 
As  he  merrily  plies  his  trade? 

[40] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


He's  a  span 

And  a  quarter  in  height. 
Get  him  in  sight,  hold  him  tight, 
And  you're  a  made 
Man! 


You  watch  your  cattle  the  summer  day, 
Sup  on  potatoes,  sleep  in  the  hay; 

How  would  you  like  to  roll  in  your  carriage, 
Look  for  a  duchess's  daughter  in  marriage? 
Seize  the  Shoemaker — then  you  may! 
"Big  boots  a-hunting, 
Sandals  in  the  hall, 
White  for  a  wedding-feast, 

Pink  for  a  ball. 
This  way,  that  way, 

So  we  make  a  shoe; 
Getting  rich  every  stitch, 
Tick-tack-too!" 
Nine-and-ninety  treasure-crocks 
This  keen  miser-fairy  hath, 
Hid  in  mountains,  woods  and  rocks, 
Ruin  and  round-tow'r,  cave  and  rath, 

[41] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


And  where  the  cormorants  build; 
From  time  of  old 
Guarded  by  him; 
Each  of  them  fill'd 
Full  to  the  brim 
With  gold! 


I  caught  him  at  work  one  day,  myself, 

In  the  castle-ditch,  where  foxglove  grows,- 
A  wrinkled,  wizen'd,  and  bearded  Elf, 
Spectacles  stuck  on  his  pointed  nose, 
Silver  buckles  to  his  hose, 
Leather  apron — shoe  in  his  lap — 
"Rip-rap,  tip-tap, 
Tack-tack-too ! 
(A  grasshopper  on  my  cap! 
Away  the  moth  flew!) 
Buskins  for  a  fairy  prince, 

Brogues  for  his  son, — 
Pay  me  well,  pay  me  well, 
When  the  job  is  done!" 
The  rogue  was  mine,  beyond  a  doubt. 
I  stared  at  him;  he  stared  at  me; 
'Servant,  Sir!'    'Humph!'    says  he, 
And  pull'd  a  snuff-box  out. 

[421 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


He  took  a  long  pinch,  look'd  better  pleased, 

The  queer  little  Lepracaun; 
Offer'd  the  box  with  a  whimsical  grace, — 
Pouf !  he  flung  the  dust  in  my  face, 
And,  while  I  sneezed, 
Was  gone! 

William  Allingham 


[43] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


HUNTING  SONG 

Waken,  lords  and  ladies  gay! 
On  the  mountain  dawns  the  day; 
All  the  jolly  chase  is  here, 
With  hawk,  and  horse,  and  hunting  spear! 
Hounds  are  in  their  couples  yelling, 
Hawks  are  whistling,  horns  are  knelling; 
Merrily,  merrily,  mingle  they, 
'Waken,  lords  and  ladies  gay.' 

Waken,  lords  and  ladies  gay ! 

The  mist  has  left  the  mountain  grey, 

Springlets  in  the  dawn  are  steaming, 

Diamonds  on  the  brake  are  gleaming; 

And  foresters  have  busy  been, 

To  track  the  buck  in  thicket  green; 

Now  we  come  to  chant  our  lay, 

'Waken,  lords  and  ladies  gay.' 

Waken,  lords  and  ladies  gay! 
To  the  greenwood  haste  away; 
We  can  show  you  where  he  lies, 
Fleet  of  foot,  and  tall  of  size; 
We  can  show  the  marks  he  made, 
When  'gainst  the  oak  his  antlers  fray'd; 
You  shall  see  him  brought  to  bay — 
'Waken,  lords  and  ladies  gay.' 

[441 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Louder,  louder  chant  the  lay, 

Waken,  lords  and  ladies  gay ! 

Tell  them  youth,  and  mirth,  and  glee, 

Run  a  course  as  well  as  we; 

Time,  stern  huntsman!  who  can  baulk, 

Stanch  as  hound,  and  fleet  as  hawk? 

Think  of  this,  and  rise  with  day, 

Gentle  lords  and  ladies  gay! 

Sir  Walter  Scott 


l«] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


THE  LADY  OF  SHALOTT 


Part  I 

On  either  side  the  river  lie 
Long  fields  of  barley  and  of  rye, 
That  clothe  the  wold  and  meet  the  sky; 
And  through  the  field  the  road  runs  by 

To  many-towered  Camelot; 
And  up  and  down  the  people  go, 
Gazing  where  the  lilies  blow 
Round  an  island  there  below, 

The  island  of  Shalott. 


Willows  whiten,  aspens  quiver, 
Little  breezes  dusk  and  shiver 
Through  the  wave  that  runs  for  ever 
By  the  island  in  the  river 

Flowing  down  to  Camelot. 

[461 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Four  gray  walls,  and  four  gray  towers, 
Overlook  a  space  of  flowers, 
And  the  silent  isle  embowers 
The  Lady  of  Shalott. 

By  the  margin,  willow-veiled, 
Slide  the  heavy  barges  trailed 
By  slow  horses;  and  unhailed 
The  shallop  flitteth  silken-sailed 

Skimming  down  to  Camelot: 
But  who  hath  seen  her  wave  her  hand? 
Or  at  the  casement  seen  her  stand? 
Or  is  she  known  in  all  the  land, 

The  Lady  of  Shalott? 

Only  reapers,  reaping  early 
In  among  the  bearded  barley, 
Hear  a  song  that  echoes  cheerly 
From  the  river  winding  clearly, 

Down  to  towered  Camelot: 
And  by  the  moon  the  reaper  weary, 
Piling  sheaves  in  uplands  airy, 
Listening,  whispers  "  'Tis  the  fairy 

Lady  of  Shalott." 


47] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Part  II 

There  she  weaves  by  night  and  day 
A  magic  web  with  colors  gay. 
She  has  heard  a  whisper  say, 
A  curse  is  on  her  if  she  stay 

To  look  down  to  Camelot. 
She  knows  not  what  the  curse  may  be, 
And  so  she  weaveth  steadily, 
And  little  other  care  hath  she, 

The  Lady  of  Shalott. 


And  moving  through  a  mirror  clear 
That  hangs  before  her  all  the  year, 
Shadows  of  the  world  appear. 
There  she  sees  the  highway  near 

Winding  down  to  Camelot: 
There  the  river  eddy  whirls, 

148] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


And  there  the  surly  village-churls, 
And  the  red  cloaks  of  market-girls, 
Pass  onward  from  Shalott. 

Sometimes  a  troop  of  damsels  glad, 
An  abbot  on  an  ambling  pad, 
Sometimes  a  curly  shepherd-lad, 
Or  long-haired  page  in  crimson  clad, 

Goes  by  to  towered  Camelot; 
And  sometimes  through  the  mirror  blue 
The  knights  come  riding  two  and  two: 
She  hath  no  loyal  knight  and  true, 

The  Lady  of  Shalott. 

But  in  her  web  she  still  delights 
To  weave  the  mirror's  magic  sights, 
For  often  through  the  silent  nights 
A  funeral,  with  plumes  and  lights 

And  music,  went  to  Camelot: 
Or  when  the  moon  was  overhead, 
Came  two  young  lovers  lately  wed; 
"I  am  half  sick  of  shadows,"  said 

The  Lady  of  Shalott. 


[49] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Part  III 

A  bow-shot  from  her  bower-eaves, 
He  rode  between  the  barley-sheaves, 
The  sun  came  dazzling  through  the  leaves 
And  flamed  upon  the  brazen  greaves 

Of  bold  Sir  Lancelot. 
A  red-cross  knight  for  ever  kneeled 
To  a  lady  in  his  shield, 
That  sparkled  on  the  yellow  field, 

Beside  remote  Shalott. 

The  gemmy  bridle  glittered  free, 
Like  to  some  branch  of  stars  we  see 
Hung  in  the  golden  Galaxy. 
The  bridle  bells  rang  merrily 

As  he  rode  down  to  Camelot; 
And  from  his  blazoned  baldric  slung 

[50  J 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


A  mighty  silver  bugle  hung, 
And  as  he  rode  his  armor  rung, 
Beside  remote  Shalott. 

All  in  the  blue  unclouded  weather 
Thick-jeweled  shone  the  saddle-leather, 
The  helmet  and  the  helmet-feather 
Burned  like  one  burning  flame  together, 

As  he  rode  down  to  Camelot; 
As  often  through  the  purple  night, 
Below  the  starry  clusters  bright, 
Some  bearded  meteor,  trailing  light, 

Moves  over  still  Shalott. 

His  broad  clear  brow  in  sunlight  glowed; 
On  burnished  hooves  his  war-horse  trode; 
From  underneath  his  helmet  flowed 
His  coal-black  curls  as  on  he  rode, 

As  he  rode  down  to  Camelot. 
From  the  bank  and  from  the  river 
He  flashed  into  the  crystal  mirror, 
"Tirra  lirra,"  by  the  river 

Sang  Sir  Lancelot. 

She  left  the  web,  she  left  the  loom, 
She  made  three  paces  through  the  room, 
She  saw  the  water-lily  bloom, 
She  saw  the  helmet  and  the  plume, 
She  looked  down  to  Camelot. 

[531 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Out  flew  the  web  and  floated  wide; 
The  mirror  cracked  from  side  to  side; 
"The  curse  is  come  upon  me!"  cried 
The  Lady  of  Shalott. 


Part  IV 

In  the  stormy  east-wind  straining, 
The  pale  yellow  woods  were  waning, 
The  broad  stream  in  his  banks  complaining, 
Heavily  the  low  sky  raining 

Over  towered  Camelot; 
Down  she  came  and  found  a  boat 
Beneath  a  willow  left  afloat, 
And  round  about  the  prow  she  wrote 

The  Lady  of  Shalott. 

And  down  the  river's  dim  expanse- 
Like  some  bold  seer  in  a  trance, 

[541 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Seeing  all  his  own  mischance — 
With  a  glassy  countenance 

Did  she  look  to  Camelot. 
And  at  the  closing  of  the  day 
She  loosed  the  chain,  and  down  she  lay; 
The  broad  stream  bore  her  far  away, 

The  Lady  of  Shalott. 

Lying,  robed  in  snowy  white 
That  loosely  flew  to  left  and  right — 
The  leaves  upon  her  falling  light — 
Through  the  noises  of  the  night 

She  floated  down  to  Camelot: 
And  as  the  boat-head  wound  along 
The  willowy  hills  and  fields  among, 
They  heard  her  singing  her  last  song, 

The  Lady  of  Shalott. 

Heard  a  carol,  mournful,  holy, 
Chanted  loudly,  chanted  lowly, 
Till  her  blood  was  frozen  slowly, 
And  her  eyes  were  darkened  wholly, 

Turned  to  towered  Camelot; 
For  ere  she  reached  upon  the  tide 
The  first  house  by  the  water-side, 
Singing  in  her  song  she  died, 

The  Lady  of  Shalott. 

[551 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Under  tower  and  balcony, 

By  garden-wall  and  gallery, 

A  gleaming  shape  she  floated  by, 

Dead-pale  between  the  houses  high, 

Silent  into  Camelot. 
Out  upon  the  wharfs  they  came, 
Knight  and  burgher,  lord  and  dame, 
And  round  the  prow  they  read  her  name, 

The  Lady  of  Shalott. 

Who  is  this?  and  what  is  here? 
And  in  the  lighted  palace  near 
Died  the  sound  of  royal  cheer; 
And  they  crossed  themselves  for  fear, 

All  the  knights  at  Camelot: 
But  Lancelot  mused  a  little  space; 
He  said,  "She  has  a  lovely  face; 
God  in  His  mercy  lend  her  grace, 

The  Lady  of  Shalott." 

Alfred  Tennyson 


56] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


HYMN  TO  DIANA 

Queen  and  Huntress,  chaste  and  fair, 

Now  the  sun  is  laid  to  sleep, 
Seated  in  thy  silver  chair, 

State  in  wonted  manner  keep: 
Hesperus  entreats  thy  light, 
Goddess  excellently  bright. 

Earth,  let  not  thy  envious  shade 

Dare  itself  to  interpose; 
Cynthia's  shining  orb  was  made 

Heav'n  to  clear,  when  day  did  close: 
Bless  us  then  with  wished  sight, 
Goddess  excellently  bright. 

Lay  thy  bow  of  pearl  apart 

And  thy  crystal  shining  quiver; 
Give  unto  the  flying  hart 

Space  to  breathe,  how  short  soever: 
Thou  that  mak'st  a  day  of  night, 
Goddess  excellently  bright. 

Ben  Jonson 


[59] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


THE  SONG  OF  WANDERING  AENGUS 

I  went  out  to  the  hazel  wood, 
Because  a  fire  was  in  my  head, 
And  cut  and  peeled  a  hazel  wand, 
And  hooked  a  berry  to  a  thread; 
And  when  white  moths  were  on  the  wing, 
And  moth-like  stars  were  flickering  out, 
I  dropped  the  berry  in  a  stream 
And  caught  a  little  silver  trout. 


When  I  had  laid  it  on  the  floor 
I  went  to  blow  the  fire  a-flame, 
But  something  rustled  on  the  floor, 
And  some  one  called  me  by  my  name: 
It  had  become  a  glimmering  girl 
With  apple  blossom  in  her  hair 
Who  called  me  by  my  name  and  ran 
And  faded  through  the  brightening  air. 


Though  I  am  old  with  wandering 
Through  hollow  lands  and  hilly  lands, 
I  will  find  out  where  she  has  gone, 
And  kiss  her  lips  and  take  her  hands; 
And  walk  among  long  dappled  grass, 
And  pluck  till  time  and  times  are  done, 

[60] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


The  silver  apples  of  the  moon, 
The  golden  apples  of  the  sun. 

William  Butler  Yeats 


61] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


THE  SHEPHERD  TO  HIS  LOVE 

Come  live  with  me  and  be  my  love, 
And  we  will  all  the  pleasures  prove 
That  hills  and  vallies,  dales  and  fields, 
And  woods  or  steepy  mountain  yields. 

And  we  will  sit  upon  the  rocks, 
Seeing  the  shepherds  feed  their  flocks 
By  shallow  rivers  to  whose  falls 
Melodious  birds  sing  madrigals. 

And  I  will  make  thee  beds  of  roses 
And  a  thousand  fragrant  posies, 
A  cap  of  flowers,  and  a  kirtle 
Embroider 'd  all  with  leaves  of  myrtle. 

A  gown  made  of  the  finest  wool, 
Which  from  our  pretty  lambs  we  pull, 
Fair-lined  slippers  for  the  cold, 
With  buckles  of  the  purest  gold. 

A  belt  of  straw  and  ivy-buds 
With  coral  clasps  and  amber  studs, 
An'  if  these  pleasures  may  thee  move, 
Come  live  with  me,  and  be  my  love. 

Thy  silver  dishes  for  thy  meat 
As  precious  as  the  gods  do  eat, 

[62] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Shall  on  an  ivory  table  be 
Prepar'd  each  day  for  thee  and  me. 

The  shepherd-swains  shall  dance  and  sing 
For  thy  delight  each  May-morning: 
If  these  delights  thy  mind  may  move, 
Then  live  with  me,  and  be  my  love. 

Christopher  Marlowe 


[63] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


ROBIN  HOOD  AND  THE  BUTCHER 

Come,  all  you  brave  gallants,  and  listen  a  while, 
With  hey  down,  down,  an  a  down, 
That  are  in  the  bowers  within; 
For  of  Robin  Hood,  that  archer  good, 
A  song  I  intend  for  to  sing. 

Upon  a  time  it  chanced  so 

Bold  Robin  in  forrest  did  spy 
A  jolly  butcher,  with  a  bonny  fine  mare, 

With  his  flesh  to  the  market  did  hye. 

'Good  morrow,  good  fellow,'  said  jolly  Robin, 

'What  food  hast?  tell  unto  me; 
And  thy  trade  to  me  tell,  and  where  thou  dost  dwell, 

For  I  like  well  thy  company. ' 

The  butcher  he  answered  jolly  Robin: 

'No  matter  where  I  dwell; 
For  a  butcher  I  am,  and  to  Notingham 

I  am  going,  my  flesh  to  sell.' 

[64] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


'What  is  the  price  of  thy  flesh?'  said  jolly  Robin, 

'Come  tell  it  soon  unto  me; 
And  the  price  of  thy  mare,  be  she  never  so  dear, 

For  a  butcher  fain  would  I  be. ' 

'The  price  of  my  flesh,'  the  butcher  repli'd, 

'I  soon  will  tell  unto  thee; 
With  my  bonny  mare,  and  they  are  not  dear, 

Four  mark  thou  must  give  unto  me.' 

'Four  mark  I  will  give  thee,'  saith  jolly  Robin, 

'Four  mark  it  shall  be  thy  fee; 
Thy  mony  come  count,  and  let  me  mount, 

For  a  butcher  I  fain  would  be.' 

Now  Robin  he  is  to  Notingham  gone, 

His  butcher's  trade  for  to  begin; 
With  good  intent,  to  the  sheriff  he  went, 

And  there  he  took  up  his  inn. 

When  other  butchers  they  opened  their  meat, 

Bold  Robin  he  then  begun; 
But  how  for  to  sell  he  knew  not  well, 

For  a  butcher  he  was  but  young. 

When  other  butchers  no  meat  could  sell, 

Robin  got  both  gold  and  fee; 
For  he  sold  more  meat  for  one  peny 

Than  others  could  do  for  three. 

[65] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


But  when  he  sold  his  meat  so  fast, 

No  butcher  by  him  could  thrive; 
Por  he  sold  more  meat  for  one  peny 

Than  others  could  do  for  five. 

Which  made  the  butchers  of  Notingham 

To  study  as  they  did  stand, 
Saying,  surely  he  was  some  prodigal, 

That  had  sold  his  father's  land. 

The  butchers  they  stepped  to  jolly  Robin, 
Acquainted  with  him  for  to  be; 

*  Come,  brother, '  one  said,  '  we  be  all  of  one  trade, 

Come,  will  you  go  dine  with  me?' 

*  Accurst  of  his  heart, '  said  jolly  Robin, 

'That  a  butcher  doth  deny; 
I  will  go  with  you  my  brethren  true, 
And  as  fast  as  I  can  hie.' 

But  when  to  the  sheriff's  house  they  came, 

To  dinner  they  hied  apace, 
And  Robin  he  the  man  must  be 

Before  them  all  to  say  grace. 

'Pray  God  bless  us  all,'  said  jolly  Robin, 

'And  our  meat  within  this  place; 
A  cup  of  sack  so  good  will  nourish  our  blood, 

And  so  I  do  end  my  grace. 

[661 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


'Come  fill  us  more  wine,'  said  jolly  Robin, 
'Let  us  merry  be  while  we  do  stay; 

For  wine  and  good  cheer,  be  it  never  so  dear, 
I  vow  I  the  reckning  will  pay. 

'Come,  brothers,  be  merry,'  said  jolly  Robin, 
'Let  us  drink,  and  never  give  ore; 

For  the  shot  I  will  pay,  ere  I  go  my  way, 
If  it  cost  me  five  pounds  and  more.' 

'This  is  a  mad  blade,'  the  butchers  then  said; 

Saies  the  sheriff,  '  He  is  some  prodigal, 
That  some  land  has  sold,  for  silver  and  gold, 

And  now  he  doth  mean  to  spend  all. 

'Hast  thou  any  horn-beasts,'  the  sheriff  repli'd, 

'Good  fellow,  to  sell  unto  me?' 
'Yes,  that  I  have,  good  Master  Sheriff, 

I  have  hundreds  two  or  three. 

'And  a  hundred  aker  of  good  free  land, 

If  you  please  it  to  see; 
And  I'le  make  you  as  good  assurance  of  it 

As  ever  my  father  made  me.' 

The  sheriff  he  saddled  a  good  palfrey, 
With  three  hundred  pound  in  gold, 

And  away  he  went  with  bold  Robin  Hood, 
His  horned  beasts  to  behold. 

167] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Away  then  the  sheriff  and  Robin  did  ride, 

To  the  forrest  of  merry  Sherwood; 
Then  the  sheriff  did  say,  '  God  bless  us  this  day 

From  a  man  they  call  Robin  Hood ! ' 

But  when  that  a  little  further  they  came, 

Bold  Robin  he  chanced  to  spy 
A  hundred  head  of  good  red  deer, 

Come  tripping  the  sheriff  full  nigh. 

'How  like  you  my  hornd  beasts,  good  Master  Sheriff? 

They  be  fat  and  fair  for  to  see:' 
'I  tell  thee,  good  fellow,  I  would  I  were  gone, 

For  I  like  not  thy  company.' 

Then  Robin  he  set  his  horn  to  his  mouth, 

And  blew  but  blasts  three; 
Then  quickly  anon  there  came  Little  John, 

And  all  his  company. 

'What  is  your  will?'  then  said  little  John, 

'Good  master  come  tell  it  to  me;* 
'I  have  brought  hither  the  sheriff  of  Notingham, 

This  day  to  dine  with  thee.' 

'He  is  welcome  to  me,'  then  said  Little  John, 

*I  hope  he  will  honestly  pay; 
I  know  he  has  gold,  if  it  be  but  well  told, 

Will  serve  us  to  drink  a  whole  day.' 

[68] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Then  Robin  took  his  mantle  from  his  back, 

And  laid  it  upon  the  ground, 
And  out  of  the  sherinVs  portmantle 

He  told  three  hundred  pound. 

The  Robin  he  brought  him  thorow  the  wood, 
And  set  him  on  his  dapple  gray: 

'O  have  me  commended  to  your  wife  at  home;' 
So  Robin  went  laughing  away. 

Author  Unknown 


IT1J 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


A  SEA  SONG 

A  wet  sheet  and  a  flowing  sea, 

A  wind  that  follows  fast, 
And  fills  the  white  and  rustling  sail, 

And  bends  the  gallant  mast; 
And  bends  the  gallant  mast,  my  boys, 

While,  like  the  eagle  free, 
Away  the  good  ship  flies,  and  leaves 

Old  England  on  the  lee. 

O  for  a  soft  and  gentle  wind! 

I  heard  a  fair  one  cry; 
But  give  to  me  the  snoring  breeze 

And  white  waves  heaving  high; 
And  white  waves  heaving  high,  my  boys, 

The  good  ship  tight  and  free — 
The  world  of  waters  is  our  home, 

And  merry  men  are  we. 

There's  tempest  in  yon  horned  moon, 

And  lightning  in  yon  cloud; 
And  hark  the  music,  mariners! 

The  wind  is  piping  loud; 
The  wind  is  piping  loud,  my  boys, 

The  lightning  flashes  free — 
While  the  hollow  oak  our  palace  is, 

Our  heritage  the  sea. 

Allan  Cunningham 

[72] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


EPITAPH  ON  A  HARE 

Here  lies,  whom  hound  did  ne'er  pursue, 
Nor  swifter  greyhound  follow, 

Whose  foot  ne'er  tainted  morning  dew, 
Nor  ear  heard  huntsman's  hallo; 

Old  Tiney,  surliest  of  his  kind, 
Who,  nursed  with  tender  care, 

And  to  domestic  bounds  confined, 
Was  still  a  wild  Jack-hare. 

Though  duly  from  my  hand  he  took 

His  pittance  every  night, 
He  did  it  with  a  jealous  look, 

And,  when  he  could,  would  bite. 

His  diet  was  of  wheaten  bread, 
And  milk,  and  oats,  and  straw; 

Thistles,  or  lettuces  instead, 
With  sand  to  scour  his  maw. 

On  twigs  of  hawthorn  he  regaled, 

On  pippins'  russet  peel; 
And,  when  his  juicy  salads  failed, 

Sliced  carrot  pleased  him  well. 

A  Turkey  carpet  was  his  lawn, 
Whereon  he  loved  to  bound, 

[73] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


To  skip  and  gambol  like  a  fawn, 
And  swing  his  rump  around. 

His  frisking  was  at  evening  hours, 

For  then  he  lost  his  fear; 
But  most  before  approaching  showers, 

Or  when  a  storm  drew  near. 


Eight  years  and  five  round-rolling  moons 

He  thus  saw  steal  away, 
Dozing  out  all  his  idle  noons, 

And  every  night  at  play. 

I  kept  him  for  his  humor's  sake, 

For  he  would  oft  beguile 
My  heart  of  thoughts  that  made  it  ache, 

And  force  me  to  a  smile. 

But  now,  beneath  this  walnut-shade 

He  finds  his  long,  last  home, 
And  waits,  in  snug  concealment  laid, 

Till  gentler  Puss  shall  come. 

[741 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


He,  still  more  aged,  feels  the  shocks 
From  which  no  care  can  save, 

And,  partner  once  of  Tiney's  box, 
Must  soon  partake  his  grave. 

William  Cowper 


(75] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


THE  PILGRIM 

From  "The  Pilgrim's  Progress" 

Who  would  true  valor  see, 

Let  him  come  hither! 
One  here  will  constant  be, 

Come  wind,  come  weather; 
There's  no  discouragement 
Shall  make  him  once  relent 
His  first-avowed  intent 
To  be  a  Pilgrim. 

Whoso  beset  him  round 
With  dismal  stories, 

Do  but  themselves  confound; 
His  strength  the  more  is. 

No  lion  can  him  fright; 

He'll  with  a  giant  fight; 

But  he  will  have  a  right 
To  be  a  Pilgrim. 

Hobgoblin,  nor  foul  fiend, 
Can  daunt  his  spirit; 

He  knows  he  at  the  end 
Shall  Life  inherit: — 

Then,  fancies,  fly  away; 

[76] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


He'll  not  fear  what  men  say; 
He'll  labor  night  and  day, 
To  be  a  Pilgrim. 

John  Bunyan 


177J 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


LULLABY  FOR  TITANIA 

First  Fairy 

You  spotted  snakes  with  double  tongue, 
Thorny  hedgehogs,  be  not  seen; 

Newts,  and  blind-worms,  do  no  wrong; 
Come  not  near  our  fairy  queen. 

Chorus 

Philomel  with  melody 

Sing  in  our  sweet  lullaby! 
Lulla,  lulla,  lullaby;  lulla,  lulla,  lullaby! 
Never  harm,  nor  spell,  nor  charm, 

Come  our  lovely  lady  nigh ! 

So  good-night,  with  lullaby. 

Second  Fairy 

Weaving  spiders,  come  not  here; 

Hence,  you  long-legg'd  spinners,  hence; 
Beetles  black,  approach  not  near; 

Worm,  nor  snail,  do  no  offence. 

Chorus 

Philomel  with  melody 
Sing  in  our  sweet  lullaby; 

178] 


• 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Lulla,  lulla,  lullaby;  lulla,  lulla,  lullaby! 
Never  harm,  nor  spell,  nor  charm, 

Come  our  lofely  lady  nigh! 

So  good-night,  with  lullaby. 

William  Shakespeare 


181] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


ISRAFEL 

And  the  angel  Israfel,  whose  heart-strings  are  a  lute,  and  who  has  the 
sweetest  voice  of  all  God's  creatures. — Koran. 

In  Heaven  a  spirit  doth  dwell 
Whose  heart-strings  are  a  lute; 

None  sing  so  wildly  well 

As  the  Angel  Israfel, 

And  the  giddy  stars  (so  legends  tell), 

Ceasing  their  hymns,  attend  the  spell 
Of  his  voice,  all  mute. 

Tottering  above 

In  her  highest  noon, 

The  enamoured  moon 
Blushes  with  love, 

While,  to  listen,  the  red  levin 

(With  the  rapid  Pleiads,  even, 

Which  were  seven) 

Pauses  in  Heaven. 

And  they  say  (the  starry  choir 
And  the  other  listening  things) 

That  Israfeli's  fire 

Is  owing  to  that  lyre 

By  which  he  sits  and  sings, 

The  trembling  living  wire 
Of  those  unusual  strings. 

182] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


But  the  skies  that  angel  trod, 
Where  deep  thoughts  are  a  duty, 

Where  Love's  a  grown-up  God, 

Where  the  Houri  glances  are 
Imbued  with  all  the  beauty 

Which  we  worship  in  a  star. 

Therefore  thou  art  not  wrong, 

Israfeli,  who  despisest 
An  unimpassioned  song; 
To  thee  the  laurels  belong, 

Best  bard,  because  the  wisest: 
Merrily  live,  and  long! 

The  ecstasies  above 

With  thy  burning  measures  suit: 

Thy  grief,  thy  joy,  thy  hate,  thy  love, 
With  the  fervor  of  thy  lute : 
Well  may  the  stars  be  mute! 

Yes,  Heaven  is  thine;  but  this 
Is  a  world  of  sweets  and  sours; 
Our  flowers  are  merely — flowers, 

And  the  shadow  of  thy  perfect  bliss 
Is  the  sunshine  of  ours. 

If  I  could  dwell 
Where  Israfel 

[85] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Hath  dwelt,  and  he  where  I, 
He  might  not  sing  so  wildly  well 

A  mortal  melody, 
While  a  bolder  note  than  this  might  swell 

From  my  lyre  within  the  sky. 

Edgar  Allan  Poe 


186] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


JAFFAR 

Jaffar,  the  Barmecide,  the  good  Vizier, 

The  poor  man's  hope,  the  friend  without  a  peer, 

Jaffar  was  dead,  slain  by  a  doom  unjust; 

And  guilty  Haroun,  sullen  with  mistrust 

Of  what  the  good,  and  e'en  the  bad,  might  say, 

Ordained  that  no  man  living  from  that  day 

Should  dare  to  speak  his  name  on  pain  of  death. 

All  Araby  and  Persia  held  their  breath; 

All  but  the  brave  Mondeer:  he,  proud  to  show 

How  far  for  love  a  grateful  soul  could  go, 

And  facing  death  for  very  scorn  and  grief 

(For  his  great  heart  wanted  a  great  relief), 

Stood  forth  in  Bagdad  daily,  in  the  square 

Where  once  had  stood  a  happy  house,  and  there 

Harangued  the  tremblers  at  the  scimitar 

On  all  they  owed  to  the  divine  Jaffar. 

"Bring  me  this  man,"  the  caliph  cried.   The  man 

Was  brought,  was  gazed  upon.   The  mutes  began 

To  bind  his  arms.     "Welcome,  brave  cords,"  cried  he; 

"From  bonds  far  worse  Jaffar  delivered  me; 

From  wants,  from  shames,  from  loveless  household  fears; 

Made  a  man's  eyes  friends  with  delicious  tears; 

Restored  me,  loved  me,  put  me  on  a  par 

With  his  great  self.   How  can  I  pay  Jaffar?" 

[87] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Haroun,  who  felt  that  on  a  soul  like  this 
The  mightiest  vengeance  could  but  fall  amiss, 
Now  deigned  to  smile,  as  one  great  lord  of  fate 
Might  smile  upon  another  half  as  great. 
He  said,  "Let  worth  grow  frenzied  if  it  will; 
The  caliph's  judgment  shall  be  master  still. 
Go:  and  since  gifts  so  move  thee,  take  this  gem, 
The  richest  in  the  Tartar's  diadem, 
And  hold  the  giver  as  thou  deemest  fit!" 

"Gifts!"  cried  the  friend;  he  took,  and  holding  it 
High  toward  the  heavens,  as  though  to  meet  his  star, 
Exclaimed,  "This,  too,  I  owe  to  thee,  Jaffar!" 


Leigh  Hunt 


t88] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


A  SONG  OF  SHERWOOD 

Sherwood  in  the  twilight,  is  Robin  Hood  awake? 
Gray  and  ghostly  shadows  are  gliding  through  the  brake; 
Shadows  of  the  dappled  deer,  dreaming  of  the  morn, 
Dreaming  of  a  shadowy  man  that  winds  a  shadowy  horn. 

Robin  Hood  is  here  again:  all  his  merry  thieves 

Hear  a  ghostly  bugle-note  shivering  through  the  leaves, 

Calling  as  he  used  to  call,  faint  and  far  away, 

In  Sherwood,  in  Sherwood,  about  the  break  of  day. 

Merry,  merry  England  has  kissed  the  lips  of  June : 
All  the  wings  of  fairyland  were  here  beneath  the  moon; 
Like  a  flight  of  rose-leaves  fluttering  in  a  mist 
Of  opal  and  ruby  and  pearl  and  amethyst. 

Merry,  merry  England  is  waking  as  of  old, 

With  eyes  of  blither  hazel  and  hair  of  brighter  gold: 

For  Robin  Hood  is  here  again  beneath  the  bursting  spray 

In  Sherwood,  in  Sherwood,  about  the  break  of  day. 

Love  is  in  the  greenwood  building  him  a  house 
Of  wild  rose  and  hawthorn  and  honeysuckle  boughs: 
Love  is  in  the  greenwood:  dawn  is  in  the  skies; 
And  Marian  is  waiting  with  a  glory  in  her  eyes. 

Hark!  The  dazzled  laverock  climbs  the  golden  steep: 
Marian  is  waiting:  is  Robin  Hood  asleep? 

[891 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Round  the  fairy  grass-rings  frolic  elf  and  fay, 

In  Sherwood,  in  Sherwood,  about  the  break  of  day. 

Oberon,  Oberon,  rake  away  the  gold, 
Rake  away  the  red  leaves,  roll  away  the  mould, 
Rake  away  the  gold  leaves,  roll  away  the  red, 
And  wake  Will  Scarlett  from  his  leafy  forest  bed. 

Friar  Tuck  and  Little  John  are  riding  down  together 
With  quarter-staff  and  drinking-can  and  gray  goose-feather; 
The  dead  are  coming  back  again;  the  years  are  rolled  away 
In  Sherwood,  in  Sherwood,  about  the  break  of  day. 

Softly  over  Sherwood  the  south  wind  blows; 

All  the  heart  of  England  hid  in  every  rose 

Hears  across  the  greenwood  the  sunny  whisper  leap, 

Sherwood  in  the  red  dawn,  is  Robin  Hood  asleep? 

Hark,  the  voice  of  England  wakes  him  as  of  old 
And,  shattering  the  silence  with  a  cry  of  brighter  gold, 
Bugles  in  the  greenwood  echo  from  the  steep, 
Sherwood  in  the  red  dawn,  is  Robin  Hood  asleep? 

Where  the  deer  are  gliding  down  the  shadowy  glen 
All  across  the  glades  of  fern  he  calls  his  merry  men; 
Doublets  of  the  Lincoln  green  glancing  through  the  May 
In  Sherwood,  in  Sherwood,  about  the  break  of  day; 

[901 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


alls  them  and  they  answer:  from  aisles  of  oak  and  ash 
lings  the  Follow!  Follow!  and  the  boughs  begin  to  crash; 
lie  ferns  begin  to  flutter  and  the  flowers  begin  to  fly; 
Lnd  through  the  crimson  dawning  the  robber  band  goes  by. 

lobin!   Robin!  Robin!  All  his  merry  thieves 
Answer  as  the  bugle-note  shivers  through  the  leaves: 
ailing  as  he  used  to  call,  faint  and  far  away, 
n  Sherwood,  in  Sherwood,  about  the  break  of  day. 

Alfred  Noyes 


191] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


THE  DESTRUCTION  OF  SENNACHERIB 

(710  b.  c.) 

The  Assyrian  came  down  like  the  wolf  on  the  fold, 
And  his  cohorts  were  gleaming  in  purple  and  gold; 
And  the  sheen  of  their  spears  was  like  stars  on  the  sea, 
When  the  blue  wave  rolls  nightly  on  deep  Galilee. 

Like  the  leaves  of  the  forest  when  Summer  is  green, 
That  host  with  their  banners  at  sunset  were  seen: 
Like  the  leaves  of  the  forest  when  Autumn  hath  blown, 
That  host  on  the  morrow  lay  withered  and  strown. 

For  the  Angel  of  Death  spread  his  wings  on  the  blast, 
And  breathed  in  the  face  of  the  foe  as  he  passed: 
And  the  eyes  of  the  sleepers  waxed  deadly  and  chill, 
And  their  hearts  but  once  heaved,  and  for  ever  grew  still! 

And  there  lay  the  steed  with  his  nostrils  all  wide, 
But  through  it  there  rolled  not  the  breath  of  his  pride; 
And  the  foam  of  his  gasping  lay  white  on  the  turf, 
And  cold  as  the  spray  of  the  rock-beating  surf. 

And  there  lay  the  rider  distorted  and  pale, 
With  the  dew  on  his  brow,  and  the  rust  on  his  mail; 
And  the  tents  were  all  silent,  the  banners  alone, 
The  lances  unlifted,  the  trumpet  unblown. 

[92] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


And  the  widows  of  Ashur  are  loud  in  their  wail, 
And  the  idols  are  broke  in  the  temple  of  Baal; 
And  the  might  of  the  Gentile,  unsmote  by  the  sword, 
Hath  melted  like  snow  in  the  glance  of  the  Lord! 

Lord  Byron 


198] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


IVRY 

(March  14,  1590) 

Now  glory  to  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  from  whom  all  glories  are 
And  glory  to  our  Sovereign  Liege,  King  Henry  of  Navarre 
Now  let  there  be  the  merry  sound  of  music  and  of  dance, 
Through  thy  corn-fields  green,  and  sunny  vines,  oh  pleasan 

land  of  France! 
And  thou,  Rochelle,  our  own  Rochelle,  proud  city  of  the 

waters, 

Again  let  rapture  light  the  eyes  of  all  thy  mourning  daughters 
As  thou  wert  constant  in  our  ills,  be  joyous  in  our  joy; 
For  cold,  and  stiff,  and  still  are  they  who  wrought  thy  walls 

annoy. 

Hurrah !  hurrah !  a  single  field  hath  turned  the  chance  of  war, 
Hurrah!  hurrah!  for  Ivry  and  Henry  of  Navarre. 

Oh !  how  our  hearts  were  beating,  when,  at  the  dawn  of  day, 
We  saw  the  army  of  the  League  drawn  out  in  long  array; 
With  all  its  priest-led  citizens,  and  all  its  rebel  peers, 
And    Appenzel's    stout    infantry    and    Egmont's    Flemish 

spears. 

There  rode  the  brood  of  false  Lorraine,  the  curses  of  our  land; 
And  dark  Mayenne  was  in  the  midst,  a  truncheon  in  his  hand; 
And,  as  we  looked  on  them,  we  thought  of  Seine's  empurpled 

flood, 
And  good  Coligni's  hoary  hair  all  dabbled  with  his  blood; 

[941 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


And  we  cried  unto  the  living  God,  who  rules  the  fate  of  war, 
To  fight  for  His  own  holy  name,  and  Henry  of  Navarre. 

The  King  is  come  to  marshal  us,  in  all  his  armor  dressed; 
And  he  has  bound  a  snow-white  plume  upon  his  gallant  crest. 
He  looked  upon  his  people,  and  a  tear  was  in  his  eye; 
He   looked   upon  the  traitors,   and  his  glance  was  stern 

and  high. 
Right  graciously  he  smiled  on  us,  as  rolled  from  wing  to 

wing, 
Down  all  our  line,  a  deafening  shout:  "God  save  our  Lord 

the  King!" 
"And  if  my  standard-bearer  fall,  as  fall  full  well  he  may, 
For  never  saw  I  promise  yet  of  such  a  bloody  fray, 
Press  where  ye  see  my  white  plume  shine,  amidst  the  ranks 

of  war, 
And  be  your  oriflamme  today  the  helmet  of  Navarre." 

Hurrah!  the  foes  are  moving.   Hark  to  the  mingled  din, 
Of  fife,  and  steed,  and  trump,  and  drum,  and  roaring  culverin. 
The  fiery  Duke  is  pricking  fast  across  Saint  Andre's  plain, 
With  all  the  hireling  chivalry  of  Guelders  and  Almayne. 
Now  by  the  lips  of  those  ye  love,  fair  gentlemen  of  France, 
Charge  for  the  golden  lilies, — upon  them  with  the  lance! 
A  thousand  spurs  are  striking  deep,  a  thousand  spears  in  rest, 
A  thousand  knights  are  pressing  close  behind  the  snow-white 
crest; 

[951 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


And  in  they  burst,  and  on  they  rushed,  while,  like  a  guiding 

star, 
Amidst  the  thickest  carnage  blazed  the  helmet  of  Navarre. 

Now,  God  be  praised,  the  day  is  ours.  Mayenne  hath  turned 

his  rein; 

D'Aumale  hath  cried  for  quarter;  the  Flemish  count  is  slain. 
Their  ranks  are  breaking  like  thin  clouds  before  a  Biscay 

gale; 
The  field  is  heaped  with  bleeding  steeds,  and  flags,  and  cloven 

mail. 

And  then  we  thought  on  vengeance,  and,  all  along  our  van, 
"Remember  Saint  Bartholomew!"  was  passed  from  man  to 

man. 

But  out  spake  gentle  Henry,  "No  Frenchman  is  my  foe: 
Down,  down  with  every  foreigner,  but  let  your  brethren  go." 
Oh!  was  there  ever  such  a  knight,  in  friendship  or  in  war, 
As    our    Sovereign    Lord,    King    Henry,    the    soldier    of 

Navarre?  .... 

Ho!  maidens  of  Vienna;  ho!  matrons  of  Lucerne; 

Weep,  weep,  and  rend  your  hair  for  those  who  never  shall 
return. 

Ho!  Philip,  send,  for  charity,  thy  Mexican  pistoxes, 

That  Antwerp  monks  may  sing  a  mass  for  thy  poor  spear- 
men's souls. 

Ho!  gallant  nobles  of  the  League,  look  that  your  arms  be 
bright; 

[961 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


lo !  burghers  of  St.  Genevieve, keep  watch  and  ward  to-night ; 
?or  our  God  hath  crushed  the  tyrant,  our  God  hath  raised 

the  slave, 
And  mocked  the  counsel  of  the  wise,  and  the  valor  of  the 

brave. 

Then  glory  to  His  holy  name,  from  whom  all  glories  are; 
And  glory  to  our  Sovereign  Lord,  King  Henry  of  Navarre! 

Thomas  Babington  Macaulay 


[971 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


THE  TIGER 

Tiger!  Tiger!  burning  bright, 
In  the  forests  of  the  night, 
What  immortal  hand  or  eye 
Could  frame  thy  fearful  symmetry? 

In  what  distant  deeps  or  skies 
Burnt  the  fire  of  thine  eyes? 
On  what  wings  dare  he  aspire? 
What  the  hand  dare  seize  the  fire? 

And  what  shoulder,  and  what  art, 
Could  twist  the  sinews  of  thy  heart? 
And  when  thy  heart  began  to  beat, 
What  dread  hand  and  what  dread  feet? 

What  the  hammer?  what  the  chain? 
In  what  furnace  was  thy  brain? 
What  the  anvil?   What  dread  grasp 
Dare  its  deadly  terrors  clasp? 

When  the  stars  threw  down  their  spears, 
And  watered  heaven  with  their  tears, 
Did  He  smile  His  work  to  see? 
Did  He  who  made  the  Lamb,  make  thee? 

[98] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Tiger!  Tiger!  burning  bright, 
In  the  forests  of  the  night, 
What  immortal  hand  or  eye 
Dare  frame  thy  fearful  symmetry? 

William  Blake 


199]' 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


THE  TERRIBLE  ROBBER  MEN 

O !  I  wish  the  sun  was  bright  in  the  sky, 
And  the  fox  was  back  in  his  den,  O! 

For  always  I'm  hearing  the  passing  by 
Of  the  terrible  robber  men,  O ! 
The  terrible  robber  men. 

O !  what  does  the  fox  carry  over  the  rye 
When  it's  bright  in  the  morn  again,  O! 

And  what  is  it  making  the  lonesome  cry 
With  the  terrible  robber  men,  O! 
The  terrible  robber  men. 

O!  I  wish  the  sun  was  bright  in  the  sky, 
And  the  fox  was  back  in  his  den,  O ! 

For  always  I'm  hearing  the  passing  by 
Of  the  terrible  robber  men,  O! 
The  terrible  robber  men. 

Padraic  Colum 


[100] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


SIR  PATRICK  SPENS 

The  king  sits  in  Dunfermline  toun, 
Drinking  the  blude-red  wine: 

*0  whare  will  I  get  a  skeely  skipper 
To  sail  this  new  ship  of  mine?' 

O  up  and  spake  an  eldern  knight, 
Sat  at  the  king's  right  knee — 

'Sir  Patrick  Spens  is  the  best  sailor 
That  ever  sailed  the  sea.' 

Our  king  has  written  a  braid  letter, 
And  sealed  it  with  his  hand, 

And  sent  it  to  Sir  Patrick  Spens, 
Was  walking  on  the  strand. 

'To  Noroway,  to  Noroway, 
To  Noroway  o'er  the  faem; 

The  king's  daughter  of  Noroway, 
'  Tis  thou  maun  bring  her  hame.' 

The  first  word  that  Sir  Patrick  read, 
Sae  loud  loud  laughed  he; 

The  neist  word  that  Sir  Patrick  read, 
The  tear  blinded  his  e'e. 

'O  wha  is  this  has  done  this  deed, 
And  tauld  the  king  o'  me, 
[ion 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


To  send  us  out,  at  this  time  of  the  year, 
To  sail  upon  the  sea?' 

*Be  it  wind,  be  it  weet,  be  it  hail,  be  it  sleet, 

Our  ship  must  sail  the  faem; 
The  king's  daughter  of  Noroway, 

'Tis  we  must  fetch  her  hame.' 

They  hoysed  their  sails  on  Monenday  morn, 

Wi'  a'  the  speed  they  may; 
And  they  hae  landed  in  Noroway 

Upon  a  Wedensday. 

They  hadna  been  a  week,  a  week 

In  Noroway  but  twae, 
When  that  the  lords  o'  Noroway 

Began  aloud  to  say: 

'Ye  Scottishmen  spend  a'  our  king's  gowd, 

And  a'  our  queenis  fee.' 
'Ye  lie,  ye  lie,  ye  liars  loud! 

Fu'  loud  I  hear  ye  lie! 

'For  I  hae  brought  as  much  white  monie 

As  gane  my  men  and  me — 
And  I  hae  brought  a  half-fou'  o'  gude  red  gowd 

Out  o'er  the  sea  wi'  me. 

1102] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


'Make  ready,  make  ready,  my  merry  men  a'! 

Our  gude  ship  sails  the  morn.' 
'Now  ever  alake,  my  master  dear, 

I  fear  a  deadly  storm ! 

'I  saw  the  new  moon,  late  yestreen, 

Wi'  the  auld  moon  in  her  arm; 
And  if  we  gang  to  sea,  master, 

I  fear  we'll  come  to  harm.' 

They  hadna  sail'd  a  league,  a  league, 

A  league  but  barely  three, 
When  the  lift  grew  dark,  and  the  wind  blew  loud, 

And  gurly  grew  the  sea. 

The  ankers  brak,  and  the  top-masts  lap, 

It  was  sic  a  deadly  storm; 
And  the  waves  cam'  o'er  the  broken  ship 

Till  a'  her  sides  were  torn. 

'O  where  will  I  get  a  gude  sailor, 

To  take  my  helm  in  hand, 
Till  I  get  up  to  the  tall  top-mast; 

To  see  if  I  can  spy  land?' 

'O  here  am  I,  a  sailor  gude, 

To  take  the  helm  in  hand, 
Till  ye  get  up  to  the  tall  top-mast: 

But  I  fear  you'll  ne'er  spy  land.' 

[103] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


He  hadna  gane  a  step,  a  step, 

A  step  but  barely  ane, 
When  a  bout  flew  out  of  our  goodly  ship, 

And  the  salt  sea  it  came  in. 

'Gae,  fetch  a  web  o'  the  silken  claith, 

Another  o'  the  twine, 
And  wap  them  into  our  ship's  side, 

And  letna  the  sea  come  in.' 

They  fetch'd  a  web  o'  the  silken  claith, 

Another  o'  the  twine, 
And  they  wapped  them  round  that  gude  ship's 
side, 

But  still  the  sea  came  in. 

O  laith  laith  were  our  gude  Scots  lords 

To  wet  their  cork-heeled  shoon! 
But  lang  ere  a'  the  play  was  play'd 

They  wat  their  hats  aboon. 

And  mony  was  the  feather-bed 

That  floated  on  the  faem, 
And  mony  was  the  gude  lord's  son 

That  never  mair  came  hame. 

The  ladyes  wrang  their  fingers  white — 
The  maidens  tore  their  hair; 

[104] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


A'  for  the  sake  of  their  true  loves — 
For  them  they'll  see  na  mair. 

O  lang  lang  may  the  ladyes  sit, 
Wi'  their  fans  into  their  hand, 

Before  they  see  Sir  Patrick  Spens 
Come  sailing  to  the  strand ! 

And  lang  lang  may  the  maidens  sit, 
Wi'  the  goud  kaims  in  their  hair, 

A'  waiting  for  their  ain  dear  loves — 
For  them  they'll  see  na  mair. 

O  forty  miles  off  Aberdour, 

'  Tis  fifty  fathoms  deep, 
And  there  lies  gude  Sir  Patrick  Spens, 

Wi'  the  Scots  lords  at  his  feet. 


Author  Unknown 


11071 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


"BLOW,  BLOW,  THOU  WINTER  WIND" 

Blow,  blow,  thou  winter  wind, 
Thou  are  not  so  unkind 

As  man's  ingratitude; 
Thy  tooth  is  not  so  keen, 
Because  thou  art  not  seen, 

Although  thy  breath  be  rude. 
Heigh-ho!  sing  heigh-ho!  unto  the  green  holly; 
Most  friendship  is  feigning,  most  loving  mere  folly; 

Then,  heigh-ho !  the  holly ! 

This  life  is  most  jolly ! 

Freeze,  freeze,  thou  bitter  sky, 
Thou  dost  not  bite  so  nigh 

As  benefits  forgot: 
Though  thou  the  waters  warp, 
Thy  sting  is  not  so  sharp 

As  friend  remembered  not. 
Heigh-ho!  sing  heigh-ho!  unto  the  green  holly 
Most  friendship  is  feigning,  most  loving  mere  folly; 
Then,  heigh-ho,  the  holly! 
This  life  is  most  jolly ! 

William  Shakespeare 


[108] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


THE  PIED  PIPER  OF  HAMELIN 

(A  Child's  Story) 


Hamelin  Town's  in  Brunswick, 

By  famous  Hanover  city; 

The  river  Weser,  deep  and  wide, 
Washes  its  wall  on  the  southern  side; 
A  pleasanter  spot  you  never  spied; 

But,  when  begins  my  ditty, 
Almost  five  hundred  years  ago, 
To  see  the  townsfolk  suffer  so 

From  vermin  was  a  pity. 

II 

Rats! 
They  fought  the  dogs  and  killed  the  cats 
And  bit  the  babies  in  the  cradles, 

[109] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


And  ate  the  cheeses  out  of  the  vats, 

And  licked  the  soup  from  the  cook's  own  ladles 
Split  open  the  kegs  of  salted  sprats, 
Made  nests  inside  men's  Sunday  hats, 
And  even  spoiled  the  women's  chats 
By  drowning  their  speaking 
With  shrieking  and  squeaking 
In  fifty  different  sharps  and  flats. 

Ill 

At  last  the  people  in  a  body 

To  the  Town  Hall  came  flocking: 
"  'Tis  clear,"  cried  they,  "our  Mayor's  a  noddy 

And  as  for  our  Corporation, — shocking 
To  think  we  buy  gowns  lined  with  ermine 
For  dolts  that  can't  or  won't  determine 
What's  best  to  rid  us  of  our  vermin! 
You  hope,  because  you're  old  and  obese, 
To  find  in  the  furry  civic  robe  ease? 
Rouse  up,  sirs!  Give  your  brains  a  racking, 
To  find  the  remedy  we're  lacking, 
Or,  sure  as  fate,  we'll  send  you  packing!" 
At  this  the  Mayor  and  Corporation 
Quaked  with  a  mighty  consternation. 

IV 

An  hour  they  sat  in  council, — 

At  length  the  Mayor  broke  silence: 

[1101 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


"For  a  guilder  I'd  my  ermine  gown  sell; 

I  wish  I  were  a  mile  hence! 
It's  easy  to  bid  one  rack  one's  brain, — 
I'm  sure  my  poor  head  aches  again, 
I've  scratched  it  so,  and  all  in  vain. 
Oh  for  a  trap,  a  trap,  a  trap!" 
Just  as  he  said  this,  what  should  hap 
At  the  chamber-door  but  a  gentle  tap? 
"Bless  us,"  cried  the  Mayor,  "what's  that?" 
(With  the  Corporation  as  he  sat, 
Looking  little  though  wondrous  fat; 
Nor  brighter  was  his  eye,  nor  moister 
Than  a  too-long-opened  oyster, 
Save  when  at  noon  his  paunch  grew  mutinous 
For  a  plate  of  turtle  green  and  glutinous) 
"Only  a  scraping  of  shoes  on  the  mat? 
Anything  like  the  sound  of  a  rat 
Makes  my  heart  go  pit-a-pat!" 


"Come  in!"  the  Mayor  cried,  looking  bigger: 
And  in  did  come  the  strangest  figure! 
His  queer  long  coat  from  heel  to  head 
Was  half  of  yellow  and  half  of  red, 
And  he  himself  was  tall  and  thin, 
With  sharp  blue  eyes,  each  like  a  pin, 
And  light  loose  hair,  yet  swarthy  skin, 
[in] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


No  tuft  on  cheek,  nor  beard  on  chin, 
But  lips  where  smiles  went  out  and  in; 
There  was  no  guessing  his  kith  and  kin: 
And  nobody  could  enough  admire 
The  tall  man  and  his  quaint  attire. 
Quoth  one:  "It's  as  my  great-grandsire, 
Starting  up  at  the  Trump  of  Doom's  tone, 
Had  walked  this  way  from  his  painted 
tombstone!" 

VI 

He  advanced  to  the  council-table: 

And,  "Please  your  honors,"  said  he,  "I'm  able, 

By  means  of  a  secret  charm  to  draw 

All  creatures  living  beneath  the  sun, 

That  creep  or  swim  or  fly  or  run, 

After  me  so  as  you  never  saw! 

And  I  chiefly  use  my  charm 

On  creatures  that  do  people  harm, 

The  mole  and  toad  and  newt  and  viper; 

And  people  call  me  the  Pied  Piper." 

(And  here  they  noticed  round  his  neck 

A  scarf  of  red  and  yellow  stripe, 

To  match  with  his  coat  of  the  self -same  check, 

And  at  the  scarf's  end  hung  a  pipe; 

And  his  fingers,  they  noticed,  were  ever  straying 

As  if  impatient  to  be  playing 

Upon  this  pipe  as  low  it  dangled 

[112] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Over  his  vesture  so  old-fangled.  ) 

"Yet,"  said  he,  "poor  piper  as  I  am, 

In  Tartary  I  freed  the  Cham, 

Last  June,  from  his  huge  swarms  of  gnats; 

I  eased  in  Asia  the  Nizam 

Of  a  monstrous  brood  of  vampire-bats; 

And  as  for  what  your  brain  bewilders, — 

If  I  can  rid  your  town  of  rats, 

Will  you  give  me  a  thousand  guilders?" 

"One?  fifty  thousand!"  was  the  exclamation 

Of  the  astonished  Mayor  and  Corporation. 


[ns] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


VII 

Into  the  street  the  Piper  stepped, 

Smiling  first  a  little  smile, 
As  if  he  knew  what  magic  slept 

In  his  quiet  pipe  the  while; 
Then,  like  a  musical  adept, 
To  blow  the  pipe  his  lips  he  wrinkled, 
And  green  and  blue  his  sharp  eyes  twinkled, 
Like  a  candle-flame  where  salt  is  sprinkled; 
And  ere  three  shrill  notes  the  pipe  uttered, 
You  heard  as  if  an  army  muttered; 
And  the  muttering  grew  to  a  grumbling; 
And  the  grumbling  grew  to  a  mighty  rumbling; 
And  out  of  the  houses  the  rats  came  tumbling. 
Great  rats,  small  rats,  lean  rats,  brawny  rats, 
Brown  rats,  black  rats,  gray  rats,  tawny  rats, 
Grave  old  plodders,  gay  young  friskers, 

Fathers,  mothers,  uncles,  cousins, 
Cocking  tails  and  pricking  whiskers; 

Families  by  tens  and  dozens, 
Brothers,  sisters,  husbands,  wives, — 
Followed  the  Piper  for  their  lives. 
From  street  to  street  he  piped  advancing, 
And  step  for  step  they  followed  dancing, 
Until  they  came  to  the  river  Weser, 
Wherein  all  plunged  and  perished ! 
— Save  one  who,  stout  as  Julius  Caesar, 

[114] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Swam  across  and  lived  to  carry 

(As  he,  the  manuscript  he  cherished) 

To  Rat-land  home  his  commentary, 

Which  was:  "At  the  first  shrill  notes  of  the  pipe, 

I  heard  the  sound  as  of  scraping  tripe, 

And  putting  apples,  wondrous  ripe, 

Into  a  cider-press's  gripe, — 

And  a  moving  away  of  pickle-tub-boards, 

And  a  leaving  ajar  of  conserve-cupboards, 

And  a  drawing  the  corks  of  train-oil-flasks, 

And  a  breaking  the  hoops  of  butter-casks; 

And  it  seemed  as  if  a  voice 

(Sweeter  far  than  by  harp  or  by  psaltery 

Is  breathed)  called  out  'Oh  rats,  rejoice! 

The  world  is  grown  to  one  vast  drysaltery! 

So  munch  on,  crunch  on,  take  your  nuncheon, 

Breakfast,  supper,  dinner,  luncheon!' 

And  just  as  a  bulky  sugar-puncheon, 

Already  staved,  like  a  great  sun  shone 

Glorious  scarce  an  inch  before  me, 

Just  as  methought  it  said,  'Come,  bore  me!' — 

I  found  the  Weser  rolling  o'er  me." 


[115] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


VIII 

You  should  have  heard  the  Hamelin  people 
Ringing  the  bells  till  they  rocked  the  steeple; 
"Go,"  cried  the  Mayor,  "and  get  long  poles! 
Poke  out  the  nests  and  block  up  the  holes! 
Consult  with  carpenters  and  builders, 
And  leave  in  our  town  not  even  a  trace 
Of  the  rats!" — when  suddenly,  up  the  face 
Of  the  Piper  perked  in  the  market-place, 
With  a  "First,  if  you  please,  my  thousand 
guilders!" 

IX 

A  thousand  guilders!  the  Mayor  looked  blue; 
So  did  the  Corporation  too. 
For  council-dinners  made  rare  havoc 
With  Claret,  Moselle,  Vin-de-Grave,  Hock; 
And  half  the  money  would  replenish 
Their  cellar's  biggest  butt  with  Rhenish. 
To  pay  this  sum  to  a  wandering  fellow 
With  a  gypsy  coat  of  red  and  yellow! 
"Beside,"  quoth  the  Mayor,  with  a  knowing 

wink, 
"Our  business  was  done  at  the  river's  brink; 
We  saw  with  our  eyes  the  vermin  sink, 
And  what's  dead  can't  come  to  life,  I  think. 
So,  friend,  we're  not  the  folks  to  shrink 

[116] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


From  the  duty  of  giving  you  something  to  drink, 

And  a  matter  of  money  to  put  in  your  poke; 

But  as  for  the  guilders,  what  we  spoke 

Of  them,  as  you  very  well  know,  was  in  joke. 

Beside,  our  losses  have  made  us  thrifty; 

A  thousand  guilders !  Come,  take  fifty ! " 


The  Piper's  face  fell,  and  he  cried, 

"No  trifling!  I  can't  wait!  beside, 

I've  promised  to  visit  by  dinner  time 

Bagdat,  and  accept  the  prime 

Of  the  Head  Cook's  pottage,  all  he's  rich  in, 

For  having  left,  in  the  Caliph's  kitchen, 

Of  a  nest  of  scorpions  no  survivor; 

With  him  I  proved  no  bargain-driver; 

With  you,  don't  think  I'll  bate  a  stiver! 

And  folks  who  put  me  in  a  passion 

May  find  me  pipe  after  another  fashion." 


[117] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


XI 

"How?"  cried  the  Mayor,  "d'ye  think  I  brook 

Being  worse  treated  than  a  Cook? 

Insulted  by  a  lazy  ribald 

With  idle  pipe  and  vesture  piebald? 

You  threaten  us,  fellow?  Do  your  worst, 

Blow  your  pipe  there  till  you  burst!" 


XII 

Once  more  he  stepped  into  the  street; 

And  to  his  lips  again 
Laid  his  long  pipe  of  smooth  straight  cane; 

And  ere  he  blew  three  notes  (such  sweet 
Soft  notes  as  yet  musician's  cunning 
Never  gave  the  enraptured  air) 
There  was  a  rustling  that  seemed  like  a  bustlin 
Of  merry  crowds  justling  at  pitching  and  hust 
ling; 

[118] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Small  feet  were  pattering,  wooden  shoes 

clattering, 
Little  hands  clapping,  and  little  tongues  chat- 
tering; 
And,  like  fowls  in  a  farm-yard  when  barley  is 

scattering, 
Out  came  the  children  running: 
All  the  little  boys  and  girls, 
With  rosy  cheeks  and  flaxen  curls, 
And  sparkling  eyes  and  teeth  like  pearls, 
Tripping  and  skipping,  ran  merrily  after 
The    wonderful    music    with    shouting    and 
laughter. 

XIII 

The  Mayor  was  dumb,  and  the  Council  stood 
As  if  they  were  changed  into  blocks  of  wood, 
Unable  to  move  a  step,  or  cry 
To  the  children  merrily  skipping  by, — 
And  could  only  follow  with  the  eye 
That  joyous  crowd  at  the  Piper's  back. 
But  how  the  Mayor  was  on  the  rack, 
And  the  wretched  Council's  bosoms  beat, 
As  the  Piper  turned  from  the  High  Street 
To  where  the  Weser  rolled  its  waters 
Right  in  the  way  of  their  sons  and  daughters ! 
However,  he  turned  from  south  to  west, 
And  to  Koppelberg  Hill  his  steps  addressed, 

[1191 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


And  after  him  the  children  pressed; 

Great  was  the  joy  in  every  breast. 

"He  never  can  cross  that  mighty  top! 

He's  forced  to  let  the  piping  drop, 

And  we  shall  see  our  children  stop!" 

When,  lo,  as  they  reached  the  mountain-side, 

A  wondrous  portal  opened  wide, 

As  if  a  cavern  was  suddenly  hollowed; 

And  the  Piper  advanced  and  the  children  followed; 

And  when  all  were  in,  to  the  very  last, 

The  door  in  the  mountain-side  shut  fast. 

Did  I  say,  all?   No!   One  was  lame, 

And  could  not  dance  the  whole  of  the  way; 

And  in  after  years,  if  you  would  blame 

His  sadness,  he  was  used  to  say, — 

"It's  dull  in  our  town  since  my  playmates  left! 

I  can't  forget  that  I  am  bereft 

Of  all  the  pleasant  sights  they  see, 

Which  the  Piper  also  promised  me; 

For  he  led  us,  he  said,  to  a  joyous  land, 

Joining  the  town  and  just  at  hand, 

Where  waters  gushed,  and  fruit-trees  grew, 

And  flowers  put  forth  a  fairer  hue, 

And  everything  was  strange  and  new; 

The  sparrows  were  brighter  than  peacocks  here, 

And  their  dogs  outran  our  fallow  deer, 

And  honey-bees  had  lost  their  stings, 

And  horses  were  born  with  eagles'  wings ; 

[1201 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


And  just  as  I  became  assured 

My  lame  foot  would  be  speedily  cured, 

The  music  stopped  and  I  stood  still, 

And  found  myself  outside  the  hill, 

Left  alone  against  my  will, 

To  go  now  limping  as  before, 

And  never  hear  of  that  country  more!" 


XIV 

Alas,  alas  for  Hamelin! 

There  came  into  many  a  burgher's  pate 

A  text  which  says  that  heaven's  gate 

Opes  to  the  rich  at  as  easy  rate 
As  the  needle's  eye  takes  a  camel  in! 
The  Mayor  sent  East,  West,  North  and  South, 
To  offer  the  Piper,  by  word  of  mouth, 

Wherever  it  was  men's  lot  to  find  him, 
Silver  and  gold  to  his  heart's  content, 
If  he'd  only  return  the  way  he  went, 

And  bring  the  children  behind  him. 
But  when  they  saw  'twas  a  lost  endeavor, 
And  piper  and  dancers  were  gone  forever, 
They  made  a  decree  that  lawyers  never 

Should  think  their  records  dated  duly 
If,  after  the  day  of  the  month  and  year, 
These  words  did  not  as  well  appear, 
"And  so  long  after  what  happened  here 
[121] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


On  the  Twenty-second  of  July, 
Thirteen  hundred  and  seventy-six:" 
And  the  better  in  memory  to  fix 
The  place  of  the  children's  last  retreat, 
They  called  it,  the  Pied  Piper  Street — 
Where  any  one  playing  on  pipe  or  tabor 
Was  sure  for  the  future  to  lose  his  labor. 
Nor  suffered  they  hostelry  or  tavern 

To  shock  with  mirth  a  street  so  solemn; 
But  opposite  the  place  of  the  cavern 

They  wrote  the  story  on  a  column, 
And  on  the  great  church-window  painted 
The  same,  to  make  the  world  acquainted 
How  their  children  were  stolen  away, 
And  there  it  stands  to  this  very  day. 
And  I  must  not  omit  to  say 
That  in  Transylvania  there's  a  tribe 
Of  alien  people  who  ascribe 
The  outlandish  ways  and  dress 
On  which  their  neighbors  lay  such  stress, 
To  their  fathers  and  mothers  having  risen 
Out  of  some  subterraneous  prison 
Into  which  they  were  trepanned 
Long  time  ago  in  a  mighty  band 
Out  of  Hamelin  town  in  Brunswick  land, 
But  how  or  why,  they  don't  understand. 


[122] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


XV 

So,  Willy,  let  me  and  you  be  wipers 

Of  scores  out  with  all  men — especially  pipers ! 

And,  whether  they  pipe  us  free  from  rats  or 

from  mice, 
If  we've  promised  them  aught,  let  us  keep  our 


promise 


Robert  Browning 


123 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


TIME,  YOU  OLD  GIPSY  MAN: 

Time,  you  old  gipsy  man, 
Will  you  not  stay, 
Put  up  your  caravan 
Just  for  one  day? 

All  things  I'll  give  you 
Will  you  be  my  guest, 
Bells  for  your  jennet 
Of  silver  the  best, 
Goldsmiths  shall  beat  you 
A  great  golden  ring, 
Peacocks  shall  bow  to  you, 
Little  boys  sing, 
Oh,  and  sweet  girls  will 
Festoon  you  with  may. 
Time,  you  old  gipsy, 
Why  hasten  away? 

Last  week  in  Babylon, 
Last  night  in  Rome, 
Morning,  and  in  the  crush 
Under  Paul's  dome; 
Under  Paul's  dial 
You  tighten  your  rein — 
Only  a  moment, 
And  off  once  again; 

[124] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Off  to  some  city 

Now  blind  in  the  womb, 

Off  to  another 

Ere  that's  in  the  tomb. 

Time,  you  old  gipsy  man, 
Will  you  not  stay, 
Put  up  your  caravan 
Just  for  one  day? 

Ralph  Hodgson 


1127] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


THE  SOLITARY  REAPER 

Behold  her,  single  in  the  field, 
Yon  solitary  Highland  Lass ! 
Reaping  and  singing  by  herself; 
Stop  here,  or  gently  pass! 
Alone  she  cuts  and  binds  the  grain, 
And  sings  a  melancholy  strain; 
O  listen!  for  the  Vale  profound 
Is  overflowing  with  the  sound. 

No  Nightingale  did  ever  chaunt 
More  welcome  notes  to  weary  bands 
Of  travellers  in  some  shady  haunt, 
Among  Arabian  sands: 
A  voice  so  thrilling  ne'er  was  heard 
In  spring-time  from  the  Cuckoo-bird9 
Breaking  the  silence  of  the  seas 
Among  the  farthest  Hebrides. 

Will  no  one  tell  me  what  she  sings? — 

Perhaps  the  plaintive  numbers  flow 

For  old,  unhappy,  far-off  things, 

And  battles  long  ago : 

Or  is  it  some  more  humble  lay, 

Familiar  matter  of  to-day? 

Some  natural  sorrow,  loss,  or  pain, 

That  has  been,  and  may  be  again? 

[128] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Whate'er  the  theme,  the  Maiden  sang 
As  if  her  song  could  have  no  ending; 
I  saw  her  singing  at  her  work, 
And  o'er  the  sickle  bending; — 
I  listened,  motionless  and  still; 
And,  as  I  mounted  up  the  hill 
The  music  in  my  heart  I  bore, 
Long  after  it  was  heard  no  more. 

William  Wordsworth 


[129] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


MY  LOST  YOUTH 

Often  I  think  of  the  beautiful  town 

That  is  seated  by  the  sea; 
Often  in  thought  go  up  and  down 
The  pleasant  streets  of  that  dear  old  town, 
And  my  youth  comes  back  to  me. 
And  a  verse  of  a  Lapland  song 
Is  haunting  my  memory  still : 
"A  boy's  will  is  the  wind's  will, 
And  the  thoughts  of  youth,  are  long,  long  thoughts. 

I  can  see  the  shadowy  lines  of  its  trees, 

And  catch,  in  sudden  gleams, 
The  sheen  of  the  far-surrounding  seas, 
And  islands  that  were  the  Hesperides 
Of  all  my  boyish  dreams. 

And  the  burden  of  that  old  song, 
It  murmurs  and  whispers  still : 
"A  boy's  will  is  the  wind's  will, 
And  the  thoughts  of  youth  are  long,  long  thoughts." 

I  remember  the  black  wharves  and  the  slips, 

And  the  sea-tides  tossing  free; 
And  Spanish  sailors  with  bearded  lips, 
And  the  beauty  and  mystery  of  the  ships, 

And  the  magic  of  the  sea. 

[130] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


And  the  voice  of  that  wayward  song 
Is  singing  and  saying  still: 
"A  boy's  will  is  the  wind's  will, 
And  the  thoughts  of  youth  are  long,  long  thoughts." 

I  remember  the  bulwarks  by  the  shore, 

And  the  fort  upon  the  hill; 
The  sunrise  gun,  with  its  hollow  roar, 
The  drum-beat  repeated  o'er  and  o'er, 
And  the  bugle  wild  and  shrill. 
And  the  music  of  that  old  song 
Throbs  in  my  memory  still: 
"A  boy's  will  is  the  wind's  will, 
And  the  thoughts  of  youth  are  long,  long  thoughts." 

I  remember  the  sea-fight  far  away, 
How  it  thundered  o'er  the  tide! 
And  the  dead  captains,  as  they  lay 
In  their  graves,  o'erlooking  the  tranquil  bay 
Where  they  in  battle  died. 

And  the  sound  of  that  mournful  song 
Goes  through  me  with  a  thrill: 
"A  boy's  will  is  the  wind's  will, 
And  the  thoughts  of  youth  are  long,  long  thoughts." 

I  can  see  the  breezy  dome  of  groves, 
The  shadows  of  Deering's  Woods; 
And  the  friendships  old  and  the  early  loves 

[1311 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Come  back  with  a  Sabbath  sound,  as  of  doves 
In  quiet  neighborhoods. 

And  the  verse  of  that  sweet  old  song, 

It  flutters  and  murmurs  still: 

"A  boy's  will  is  the  wind's  will, 
And  the  thoughts  of  youth  are  long,  long  thoughts." 

I  remember  the  gleams  and  glooms  that  dart 

Across  the  school-boy's  brain; 
The  song  and  the  silence  in  the  heart, 
That  in  part  are  prophecies,  and  in  part 

Are  longings  wild  and  vain. 

And  the  voice  of  that  fitful  song 

Sings  on,  and  is  never  still: 

"A  boy's  will  is  the  wind's  will, 
And    the    thoughts    of    youth    are    long,     long 

thoughts."  .... 


Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow 


[132] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


BATTLE-HYMN  OF  THE  REPUBLIC 

Mine  eyes  have  seen  the  glory  of  the  coming  of  the  Lord; 
He  is  trampling  out  the  vintage  where  the  grapes  of  wrath 

are  stored; 
He  hath  loosed  the  fateful  lighting  of  His  terrible  swift 

sword; 

His  truth  is  marching  on. 

I  have  seen  Him  in  the  watch-fires  of  a  hundred  circling 

camps; 
They  have  builded  Him  an  altar  in  the  evening  dews  and 

damps; 
I  can  read  his  righteous  sentence  by  the  dim  and  flaring 

lamps; 

His  day  is  marching  on. 

I  have  read  a  fiery  gospel,  writ  in  burnished  rows  of  steel: 
"As  ye  deal  with  my  contemners,  so  with  you  my  grace 

shall  deal; 
Let  the  Hero,  born  of  woman,  crush  the  serpent  with  his 

heel, 

Since  God  is  marching  on." 

He  has  sounded  forth  the  trumpet  that  shall  never  call 

retreat; 
He  is  sifting  out  the  hearts  of  men  before  His  judgment-seat: 
Oh,  be  swift,  my  soul,  to  answer  Him!  be  jubilant,  my  feet! 
Our  God  is  marching  on. 

[1331 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


In  the  beauty  of  the  lilies  Christ  was  born  across  the  sea, 
With  a  glory  in  His  bosom  that  transfigures  you  and  me: 
As  He  died  to  make  men  holy,  let  us  die  to  make  men  free, 
While  God  is  marching  on. 

Julia  Ward  Howe 


(134] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


GATHERING  SONG  OF  DONALD  DHU 

Pibroch  of  Donuil  Dhu, 

Pibroch  of  Donuil, 
Wake  thy  wild  voice  anew, 

Summon  Clan  Conuil. 
Come  away,  come  away, 

Hark  to  the  summons! 
Come  in  your  war-array, ' 

Gentles  and  commons. 

Come  from  deep  glen,  and 

From  mountain  so  rocky, 
The  war-pipe  and  pennon 

Are  at  Inverlochy. 
Come  every  hill-plaid,  and 

True  heart  that  wears  one, 
Come  every  steel  blade,  and 

Strong  hand  that  bears  one. 

Leave  untended  the  herd, 

The  flock  without  shelter; 
Leave  the  corpse  uninterr'd, 

The  bride  at  the  altar; 
Leave  the  deer,  leave  the  steer, 

Leave  nets  and  barges: 
Come  with  your  fighting  gear, 

Broadswords  and  targes. 

[135] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Come  as  the  winds  come,  when 

Forests  are  rended; 
Come  as  the  waves  come,  when 

Navies  are  stranded: 
Faster  come,  faster  come, 

Faster  and  faster, 
Chief,  vassal,  page  and  groom, 

Tenant  and  master. 

Fast  they  come,  fast  they  come; 

See  how  they  gather! 
Wide  waves  the  eagle  plume 

Blended  with  heather. 
Cast  your  plaids,  draw  your  blades, 

Forward  each  man  set! 
Pibrooh  of  Donuil  Dhu 

Knell  for  the  onset! 

Sir  Walter  Scott 


136 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


THE  MINSTREL-BOY 

The  Minstrel-boy  to  the  war  is  gone, 

In  the  ranks  of  death  you'll  find  him; 
His  father's  sword  he  has  girded  on, 

And  his  wild  harp  slung  behind  him. — 
'Land  of  song!'  said  the  warrior-bard, 

*  Though  all  the  world  betrays  thee, 
One  sword,  at  least,  thy  rights  shall  guard, 

One  faithful  harp  shall  praise  thee ! ' 

The  Minstrel  fell! — but  the  foeman's  chain 

Could  not  bring  his  proud  soul  under; 
The  harp  he  loved  ne'er  spoke  again, 

For  he  tore  its  chords  asunder; 
And  said,  'No  chains  shall  sully  thee, 

Thou  soul  of  love  and  bravery ! 
Thy  songs  were  made  for  the  brave  and  free, 

They  shall  never  sound  in  slavery!' 

Thomas  Moore 


137 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


BANNOCKBURN 

(Robert  Bruce' s  Address  to  His  Army) 

Scots,  wha  hae  wi'  Wallace  bled, 
Scots,  wham  Bruce  has  aften  led; 
Welcome  to  your  gory  bed, 
Or  to  glorious  victorie. 

Now's  the  day,  and  now's  the  hour; 
See  the  front  o'  battle  lower; 
See  approach  proud  Edward's  power- 
Edward!  chains  and  slaverie! 

Wha  will  be  a  traitor  knave? 
Wha  can  fill  a  coward's  grave? 
Wha  sae  base  as  be  a  slave? 
Traitor!  coward!  turn  and  flee! 

Wha  for  Scotland's  King  and  law 
Freedom's  sword  will  strongly  draw, 
Free-man  stand,  or  free-man  fa'? 
Caledonian!  on  wi'  me! 

By  oppression's  woes  and  pains! 
By  your  sons  in  servile  chains! 
We  will  drain  our  dearest  veins, 
But  they  shall — they  shall  be  free! 

[138] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Lay  the  proud  usurpers  low! 
Tyrants  fall  in  every  foe! 
Liberty's  in  every  blow! 
Forward!  let  us  do,  or  die! 


Robert  Burns 


m] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


FABLE 

The  mountain  and  the  squirrel 

Had  a  quarrel, 

And  the  former  called  the  latter  "Little  Prig;' 

Bun  replied, 

"You  are  doubtless  very  big; 

But  all  sorts  of  things  and  weather 

Must  be  taken  in  together, 

To  make  up  a  year 

And  a  sphere. 

And  I  think  it  no  disgrace 

To  occupy  my  place. 

If  I'm  not  so  large  as  you, 

You  are  not  so  small  as  I, 

And  not  half  so  spry. 

I'll  not  deny  you  make 

A  very  pretty  squirrel  track; 

Talents  differ;  all  is  well  and  wisely  put; 

If  I  cannot  carry  forests  on  my  back, 

Neither  can  you  crack  a  nut." 

Ralph  Waldo  Emerson 


RAINBOW    GOLD1 


GOOD  HOURS 

I  had  for  my  winter  evening  walk — 
No  one  at  all  with  whom  to  talk, 
But  I  had  the  cottages  in  a  row 
Up  to  their  shining  eyes  in  snow. 

And  I  thought  I  had  the  folk  within: 
I  had  the  sound  of  a  violin; 
I  had  a  glimpse  through  curtain  laces 
Of  youthful  forms  and  youthful  faces. 

I  had  such  company  outward  bound. 
I  went  till  there  were  no  cottages  found. 
I  turned  and  repented,  but  coming  back 
I  saw  no  window  but  that  was  black. 

Over  the  snow  my  creaking  feet 
Disturbed  the  slumbering  village  street 
Like  profanation,  by  your  leave, 
At  ten  o'clock  of  a  winter  eve. 

Robert  Frost 


[141] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


WINTER 

When  icicles  hang  by  the  wall, 

And  Dick  the  shepherd  blows  his  nail, 

And  Tom  bears  logs  into  the  hall, 
And  milk  comes  frozen  home  in  pail, 

When  blood  is  nipt,  and  ways  be  foul, 

Then  nightly  sings  the  staring  owl, 
Tuwhoo ! 

Tuwhit!  tuwhoo!  A  merry  note! 

While  greasy  Joan  doth  keel  the  pot. 

When  all  around  the  wind  doth  blow, 
And  coughing  drowns  the  parson's  saw, 

And  birds  sit  brooding  in  the  snow, 
And  Marian's  nose  looks  red  and  raw, 

When  roasted  crabs  hiss  in  the  bowl, 

Then  nightly  sings  the  staring  owl 
Tuwhoo ! 

Tuwhit!  tuwhoo!  A  merry  note! 

While  greasy  Joan  doth  keel  the  pot. 

William  Shakespeare 


[142] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


A  CHANTED  CALENDAR 

First  came  the  primrose, 

On  the  bank  high, 

Like  a  maiden  looking  forth 

From  the  window  of  a  tower 

When  the  battle  rolls  below, 

So  looked  she, 

And  saw  the  storms  go  by. 

Then  came  the  wind-flower 
In  the  valley  left  behind, 
As  a  wounded  maiden,  pale 
With  purple  streaks  of  woe, 
When  the  battle  has  rolled  by 
Wanders  to  and  fro 
So  tottered  she, 
Dishevelled  in  the  wind. 

Then  came  the  daisies, 
On  the  first  of  May 
Like  a  bannered  show's  advance 
While  the  crowd  runs  by  the  way, 
Nith  ten  thousand  flowers  about  them  they  came  trooping 
through  the  fields. 

As  a  happy  people  come, 
So  came  they, 

[143] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


As  a  happy  people  come 
When  the  war  has  rolled  away, 
With  dance  and  tabor,  pipe  and  drum, 
And  all  make  holiday. 

Then  came  the  cowslip, 

Like  a  dancer  in  the  fair, 

She  spread  her  little  mat  of  green, 

And  on  it  danced  she. 

With  a  fillet  bound  about  her  brow, 

A  fillet  round  her  happy  brow, 

A  golden  fillet  round  her  brow, 

And  rubies  in  her  hair. 

Sydney  Dobell 


[144] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


THE  CLOUD 

I  bring  fresh  showers  for  the  thirsting  flowers 

From  the  seas  and  the  streams; 
I  bear  light  shade  for  the  leaves  when  laid 

In  their  noonday  dreams. 
From  my  wings  are  shaken  the  dews  that  waken 

The  sweet  buds  every  one, 
When  rocked  to  rest  on  their  mother's  breast 

As  she  dances  about  the  sun. 
I  wield  the  flail  of  the  lashing  hail, 

And  whiten  the  green  plains  under; 
And  then  again  I  dissolve  it  in  rain, 

And  laugh  as  I  pass  in  thunder. 

I  sift  the  snow  on  the  mountains  below, 

And  their  great  pines  groan  aghast; 
And  all  the  night  'tis  my  pillow  white, 

While  I  sleep  in  the  arms  of  the  blast. 
Sublime  on  the  towers  of  my  skiey  bowers 

Lightning  my  pilot  sits; 
In  a  cavern  under  is  fettered  the  thunder, 

It  struggles  and  howls  at  fits. 

Over  earth  and  ocean,  with  gentle  motion, 

This  pilot  is  guiding  me, 
Lured  by  the  love  of  the  Genii  that  move 

In  the  depths  of  the  purple  sea; 

[1451 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Over  the  rills,  and  the  crags,  and  the  hills, 

Over  the  lakes  and  the  plains, 
Wherever  he  dream,  under  mountain  or  stream, 

The  Spirit  he  loves  remains; 
And  I  all  the  while  bask  in  heaven's  blue  smile, 

Whilst  he  is  dissolving  in  rains. 

The  sanguine  Sunrise,  with  his  meteor  eyes, 

And  his  burning  plumes  outspread, 
Leaps  on  the  back  of  my  sailing  rack, 

When  the  morning  star  shines  dead, 
As  on  the  jag  of  a  mountain-crag, 

Which  an  earthquake  rocks  and  swings, 
An  eagle  alit  one  moment  may  sit 

In  the  light  of  its  golden  wings. 
And,  when  Sunset  may   breathe,  from  the  lit  sea 
beneath, 

Its  ardors  of  rest  and  of  love, 
And  the  crimson  pall  of  eve  may  fall 

From  the  depth  of  heaven  above, 
With  wings  folded  I  rest  on  mine  airy  nest, 

As  still  as  a  brooding  dove. 

That  orbed  maiden  with  white  fire  laden, 

Whom  mortals  call  the  Moon, 
Glides  glimmering  o'er  my  fleece-like  floor, 

By  the  midnight  breezes  strewn; 

[146] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


And  wherever  the  beat  of  her  unseen  feet, 

Which  only  the  angels  hear, 
May  have  broken  the  woof  of  my  tent's  thin  roof, 

The  Stars  peep  behind  her  and  peer. 
And  I  laugh  to  see  them  whirl  and  flee 

Like  a  swarm  of  golden  bees, 
When  I  widen  the  rent  in  my  wind-built  tent, 

Till  the  calm  rivers,  lakes,  and  seas, 
Like  strips  of  the  sky  fallen  through  me  on  high, 

Are  each  paved  with  the  moon  and  these. 

I  bind  the  Sun's  throne  with  a  burning  zone, 

And  the  Moon's  with  a  girdle  of  pearl; 
The  volcanoes  are  dim,  and  the  Stars  reel  and  swim, 

When  the  Whirlwinds  my  banner  unfurl. 
From  cape  to  cape,  with  a  bridge-like  shape, 

Over  a  torrent  sea, 
Sunbeam-proof,  I  hang  like  a  roof; 

The  mountains  its  columns  be. 
The  triumphal  arch  through  which  I  march, 

With  hurricane,  fire  and  snow, 
When  the  Powers  of  the  air  are  chained  to  my  chair, 

Is  the  million-colored  bow; 
The  Sphere-fire  above  its  soft  colors  wove, 

While  the  moist  Earth  was  laughing  below. 

I  am  the  daughter  of  Earth  and  Water, 
And  the  nursling  of  the  Sky: 

[149] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


I  pass  through  the  pores  of  the  ocean  and  shores; 

I  change,  but  I  cannot  die. 
For  after  the  rain,  when  with  never  a  stain 

The  pavilion  of  heaven  is  bare, 
And  the  winds  and  sunbeams  with  their  convex  gleams 

Build  up  the  blue  dome  of  air, 
I  silently  laugh  at  my  own  cenotaph, 

And  out  of  the  caverns  of  rain, 
Like  a  child  from  the  womb,  like  a  ghost  from  the 
tomb, 

I  arise  and  unbuild  it  again. 

Percy  Bysshe  Shelley 


[150] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


BUGLE  SONG 

The  splendor  falls  on  castle  walls 

And  snowy  summits  old  in  story: 
The  long  light  shakes  across  the  lakes, 
And  the  wild  cataract  leaps  in  glory. 
Blow,  bugle,  blow,  set  the  wild  echoes  flying, 
Blow,  bugle;  answer,  echoes,  dying,  dying,  dying. 

O  hark,  O  hear!  how  thin  and  clear, 

And  thinner,  clearer,  farther  going! 
O  sweet  and  far  from  cliff  and  scar 
The  horns  of  Elf  land  faintly  blowing! 
Blow,  let  us  hear  the  purple  glens  replying: 
Blow,  bugle;  answer,  echoes,  dying,  dying,  dying. 

O  love,  they  die  in  yon  rich  sky, 

They  faint  on  hill  or  field  or  river: 
Our  echoes  roll  from  soul  to  soul, 
And  grow  for  ever  and  for  ever. 
Blow,  bugle,  blow,  set  the  wild  echoes  flying, 
And  answer,  echoes,  answer,  dying,  dying,  dying. 

Alfred  Tennyson 


1151] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


THE  FORSAKEN  MERMAN 

Come,  dear  children,  let  us  away; 

Down  and  away  below! 
Now  my  brothers  call  from  the  bay, 
Now  the  great  winds  shoreward  blow, 
Now  the  salt  tides  seaward  flow; 
Now  the  wild  white  horses  play, 
Champ  and  chafe  and  toss  in  the  spray. 

Children  dear,  let  us  away ! 
This  way,  this  way! 

Call  her  once  before  you  go. — 

Call  once  yet! 
In  a  voice  that  she  will  know: 

"Margaret!  Margaret!" 
Children's  voices  should  be  dear. 
(Call  once  more)  to  a  mother's  ear; 
Children's  voices,  wild  with  pain, — 

Surely  she  will  come  again! 
Call  her  once  and  come  away; 

This  way,  this  way! 
"Mother  dear,  we  cannot  stay! 
The  wild  white  horses  foam  and  fret." 
Margaret!  Margaret! 

Come,  dear  children;  come  away  down; 

Call  no  more! 
One  last  look  at  the  white-walled  town, 

[152] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


And  the  little  gray  church  on  the  windy  shore; 

Then  come  down ! 
She  will  not  come,  though  you  call  all  day; 

Come  away,  come  away! 

Children  dear,  was  it  yesterday 
We  heard  the  sweet  bells  over  the  bay? 
In  the  caverns  where  we  lay, 
Through  the  surf  and  through  the  swell, 
The  far-off  sound  of  a  silver  bell? 
Sand-strewn  caverns,  cool  and  deep, 
Where  the  winds  are  all  asleep; 
Where  the  spent  lights  quiver  and  gleam, 
Where  the  salt  weed  sways  in  the  stream, 
Where  the  sea-beasts,  ranged  all  round, 
Feed  in  the  ooze  of  their  pasture-ground; 
Where  the  sea-snakes  coil  and  twine, 
Dry  their  mail  and  bask  in  the  brine; 
Where  great  whales  come  sailing  by, 
Sail  and  sail,   with  unshut  eye, 
Round  the  world  for  ever  and  aye? 

When  did  music  come  this  way? 

Children  dear,  was  it  yesterday? 

Children  dear,  was  it  yesterday 

(Call  yet  once)  that  she  went  away? 

Once  she  sate  with  you  and  me, 

On  a  red  gold  throne  in  the  heart  of  the  sea, 

[153] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


And  the  youngest  sate  on  her  knee, 
She  combed  its  bright  hair,  and  she  tended  it  well, 
When  down  swung  the  sound  of  the  far-off  bell. 
She  sighed,  she  looked  up  through  the  clear  green  sea; 
She  said:  "I  must  go,  for  my  kinsfolk  pray 
In  the  little  gray  church  on  the  shore  to-day. 
'Twill  be  Easter-time  in  the  world, — ah  me! 
And  I  lose  my  poor  soul,  Merman,  here  with  thee." 
I  said:  "Go  up,  dear  heart,  through  the  waves: 
Say  thy  prayer,  and  come  back  to  the  kind  sea-caves!" 
She  smiled,  she  went  up  through  the  surf  in  the  bay. 
Children  dear,  was  it  yesterday? 


Children  dear,  were  we  long  alone? 
"The  sea  grows  stormy,  the  little  ones  moan; 
Long  prayers,"  I  said,  "in  the  world  they  say; 
Come!"  I  said,  and  we  rose  through  the  surf  in  the  bay. 
We  went  up  the  beach,  by  the  sandy  down 
Where  the  sea-stocks  bloom,  to  the  white-walled  town, 
Through  the  narrow  paved  streets,  where  all  was  still, 
To  the  little  gray  church  on  the  windy  hill. 
From  the  church  came  a  murmur  of  folk  at  their  prayers, 
But  we  stood  without  in  the  cold  blowing  airs. 

[1541 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


We  climbed  on  the  graves,  on  the  stones  worn  with  rains, 
And  we  gazed  up  the  aisle  through  the  small  leaded  panes. 
She  sate  by  the  pillar;  we  saw  her  clear: 
"Margaret,  hist!  come  quick,  we  are  here! 
Dear  heart,"  I  said,  "we  are  long  alone; 
The  sea  grows  stormy,  the  little  ones  moan." 
But,  ah,  she  gave  me  never  a  look, 
For  her  eyes  were  sealed  to  the  holy  book! 

Loud  prays  the  priest;  shut  stands  the  door. 
Come  away,  children,  call  no  more! 
Come  away,  come  down,  call  no  more! 

Down,  down,  down! 

Down  to  the  depths  of  the  sea! 
She  sits  at  her  wheel  in  the  humming  town, 

Singing  most  joyfully. 
Hark  what  she  sings:  "O  joy,  O  joy, 
For  the  humming  street,  and  the  child  with  its  toy! 
For  the  priest  and  the  bell,  and  the  holy  well; 

For  the  wheel  where  I  spun, 

And  the  blessed  light  of  the  sun!" 

And  so  she  sings  her  fill, 

Singing  most  joyfully, 

Till  the  spindle  drops  from  her  hand, 

And  the  whizzing  wheel  stands  still. 
She  steals  to  the  window,  and  looks  at  the  sand, 

And  over  the  sand  at  the  sea; 

And  her  eyes  are  set  in  a  stare, 

[155] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


And  anon  there  breaks  a  sigh, 
And  anon  there  drops  a  tear, 
From  a  sorrow-clouded  eye, 
And  a  heart  sorrow-laden, 
A  long,  long  sigh; 

For  the  cold  strange  eyes  of  a  little  Mermaiden, 

And  the  gleam  of  her  golden  hair. 

Come  away,  away,  children; 
Come,  children,  come  down! 
The  hoarse  wind  blows  coldly ; 
Lights  shine  in  the  town. 
She  will  start  from  her  slumber 
When  gusts  shake  the  door; 
She  will  hear  the  winds  howling, 
Will  hear  the  waves  roar. 
We  shall  see,  while  above  us 
The  waves  roar  and  whirl, 
A  ceiling  of  amber, 
A  pavement  of  pearl 
Singing:  "Here  came  a  mortal, 
But  faithless  was  she! 
And  alone  dwell  for  ever 
The  kings  of  the  sea." 
But,  children,  at  midnight, 
When  soft  the  winds  blow, 
When  clear  falls  the  moonlight, 
When  spring-tides  are  low; 

[1561 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


When  sweet  airs  come  seaward 
From  heaths  starred  with  broom, 
And  high  rocks  throw  mildly 
On  the  blanched  sands  a  gloom; 
Up  the  still,  glistening  beaches, 
Up  the  creeks  we  will  hie; 
Over  banks  of  bright  seaweed 
The  ebb-tide  leaves  dry. 
We  will  gaze,  from  the  sand-hills, 
At  the  white,  sleeping  town; 
At  the  church  on  the  hillside — 
And  then  come  back  down. 
Singing :  "  There  dwells  a  loved  one, 
But  cruel  is  she! 
She  left  lonely  for  ever 
The  kings  of  the  sea." 

Matthew  Arnold 


157] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


NURSE'S  SONG 

When  the  voices  of  children  are  heard  on  the  green 

And  laughing  is  heard  on  the  hill, 
My  heart  is  at  rest  within  my  breast, 

And  everything  else  is  still. 

"Then  come  home,  my  children,  the  sun  is  gone  down, 

And  the  dews  of  night  arise; 
Come,  come,  leave  off  play,  and  let  us  away 

Till  the  morning  appears  in  the  skies." 

"No,  no,  let  us  play,  for  it  is  yet  day, 

And  we  cannot  go  to  sleep; 
Besides  in  the  sky  the  little  birds  fly, 

And  the  hills  are  all  covered  with  sheep." 

"Well,  well,  go  and  play  till  the  light  fades  away, 

And  then  go  home  to  bed." 
The  little  ones  leaped  and  shouted  and  laughed; 

And  all  the  hills  echoed. 

William  Blake 


[158 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


TO  A  MOUSE 

{On  Turning  Up  Her  Nest  with  the  Plough,  November,  1785) 

Wee,  sleekit,  cow'rin',  tim'rous  beastie, 
O,  what  a  panic's  in  thy  breastie! 
Thou  need  na  start  awa'  sae  hasty, 

Wi'  bickering  brattle! 
I  wad  be  laith  to  rin  an'  chase  thee, 

Wi'  murd'ring  pattle! 

I'm  truly  sorry  man's  dominion 
Has  broken  Nature's  social  union, 
An*  justifies  that  ill  opinion, 

Which  makes  thee  startle 
At  me,  thy  poor,  earth-born  companion, 

An'  fellow-mortal! 

I  doubt  na,  whiles,  but  thou  may  thieve; 
What  then?  poor  beastie,  thou  maun  live! 
A  daimen  icker  in  a  thrave 

'S  a  sma'  request; 
I'll  get  a  blessin'  wi'  the  lave, 

And  never  miss't! 

Thy  wee  bit  housie,  too,  in  ruin! 
Its  silly  wa's  the  win's  are  strewin'! 

[1^91 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


An'  naething,  now,  to  big  a  new  ane, 

O'  foggage  green! 
An'  bleak  December's  wind  ensuin', 

Baith  snell  an'  keen! 

Thou  saw  the  fields  laid  bare  an'  waste, 
An'  weary  winter  comin'  fast, 
An'  cozie  here,  beneath  the  blast, 

Thou  thought  to  dwell, — 
Till,  crash!  the  cruel  coulter  passed 

Out  through  thy  cell. 

That  wee  bit  heap  o'  leaves  an'  stibble 
Has  cost  thee  mony  a  weary  nibble! 
Now  thou's  turned  out,  for  a'  thy  trouble, 

But  house  or  hald, 
To  thole  the  winter's  sleety  dribble, 

An  cranreuch  cauld! 

But,  Mousie,  thou  art  no  thy  lane, 
In  proving  foresight  may  be  vain: 
The  best-laid  schemes  o'  mice  an'  men, 

Gang  aft  a-gley, 
An'  lea'e  us  naught  but  grief  an'  pain, 

For  promised  joy! 

Still  thou  art  blest,  compared  wi'  me! 
The  present  only  toucheth  thee: 

[160] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


But,  och!  I  backward  cast  my  e'e 

On  prospects  drear! 
An'  forward,  though  I  canna  see, 

I  guess  an'  fear! 

Robert  Burns 


161] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


THE  FAIRIES 


-.-.-,  -   ■ 

v '*•£•*'          «k 

■±-*.-y%f 

•:ifev' 

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fw  Wk 

=vJ^^J^^c3k--®''6*?vIi 

F^^S*. 

TC 

mi 

PR 

k                             t 

mSt^C 

COt;-- 

jr%vj 

a^w\ 

I'll  I 

R\          }S-^L      ^ 

^Hi?                T: 

K^m 

Jpw' 

i^M^ 

Hi    €  #Hr 

vpfe? 

Vffi^-Sn^? 

Tw% 

(35----^* 

On        :"  ^^> 

"4 

-sfii 

1 

W- 

pf  z3 

^\i\ 

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.'+"•' 

:':.   \   ]  " 

\'-/'\^-'';.:yr-'. 

v.    >/'  ' '      *  * 

Up  the  airy  mountain, 
Down  the  rushy  glen, 

We  daren't  go  a-hunting 
For  fear  of  little  men; 


162] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Wee  folk,  good  folk, 
Trooping  all  together; 

Green  jacket,  red  cap, 
And  white  owl's  feather! 

Down  along  the  rocky  shore 

Some  make  their  home, 
They  live  on  crispy  pancakes 

Of  yellow  tide-foam; 
Some  in  the  reeds 

Of  the  black  mountain  lake, 
With  frogs  for  their  watch-dogs, 

All  night  awake. 

High  on  the  hill-top 

The  old  King  sits; 
He  is  now  so  old  and  gray 

He's  nigh  lost  his  wits. 
With  a  bridge  of  white  mist 

Columbkill  he  crosses, 
On  his  stately  journeys 

From  Slieveleague  to  Rosses; 
Or  going  up  with  music 

On  cold  starry  nights 
To  sup  with  the  Queen 

Of  the  gay  Northern  Lights. 

They  stole  little  Bridget 
For  seven  years  long; 

[163] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


When  she  came  down  again 

Her  friends  were  all  gone. 
They  took  her  lightly  back, 

Between  the  night  and  morrow, 
They  thought  that  she  was  fast  asleep, 

But  she  was  dead  with  sorrow. 
They  have  kept  her  ever  since 

Deep  within  the  lake, 
On  a  bed  of  flag-leaves, 

Watching  till  she  wake. 


By  the  craggy  hill-side, 

Through  the  mosses  bare, 
They  have  planted  thorn-trees 

For  pleasure  here  and  there. 
If  any  man  so  daring 

As  dig  them  up  in  spite, 
He  shall  find  their  sharpest  thorns 

In  his  bed  at  night. 

Up  the  airy  mountain, 

Down  the  rushy  glen, 
We  daren't  go  a-hunting 

For  fear  of  little  men; 


[164] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Wee  folk,  good  folk, 
Trooping  all  together; 

Green  jacket,  red  cap, 
And  white  owl's  feather. 


William  Allingham 


[167] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


LA  BELLE  DAME  SANS  MERCI 

O  what  can  ail  thee,  knight-at-arms, 

Alone  and  palely  loitering? 
The  sedge  has  withered  from  the  lake, 

And  no  birds  sing. 

0  what  can  ail  thee,  knight-at-arms 
So  haggard  and  so  woe-begone? 

The  squirrel's  granary  is  full, 
And  the  harvest's  done. 

1  see  a  lily  on  thy  brow 

With  anguish  moist  and  fever-dew, 
And  on  thy  cheeks  a  fading  rose 
Fast  withereth  too. 

I  met  a  lady  in  the  meads, 

Full  beautiful — a  faery's  child, 

Her  hair  was  long,  her  foot  was  light, 
And  her  eyes  were  wild. 

I  made  a  garland  for  her  head, 

And  bracelets  too,  and  fragrant  zone; 

She  looked  at  me  as  she  did  love, 
And  made  sweet  moan. 

I  set  her  on  my  pacing  steed 

And  nothing  else  saw  all  day  long, 

[168] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


For  sideways  would  she  bend,  and  sing 
A  faery's  song. 

She  found  me  roots  of  relish  sweet, 
And  honey  wild  and  manna-dew, 

And  sure  in  language  strange  she  said, 
"I  love  thee  true." 

She  took  me  to  her  elfin  grot, 

And  there  she  wept  and  sighed  full  sore; 
And  there  I  shut  her  wild,  wild  eyes 

With  kisses  four. 

And  there  she  lulled  me  asleep, 

And  there  I  dreamed — Ah!  woe  betide! 

The  latest  dream  I  ever  dreamed 
On  the  cold  hill's  side. 

I  saw  pale  kings  and  princes  too, 
Pale  warriors,  death-pale  were  they  all: 

They  cried — "La  belle  dame  sans  merci 
Hath  thee  in  thrall!" 

I  saw  their  starved  lips  in  the  gloam 
With  horrid  warning  gaped  wide, 

And  I  awoke  and  found  me  here 
On  the  cold  hill's  side. 

1171] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


And  this  is  why  I  sojourn  here 

Alone  and  palely  loitering, 
Though  the  sedge  is  withered  from  the  lake, 

And  no  birds  sing. 

John  Keats 


\V7i\ 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


SPRING 

Spring,  the  sweet  Spring,  is  the  year's  pleasant  king; 
Then  blooms  each  thing,  then  maids  dance  in  a  ring, 
Cold  doth  not  sting,  the  pretty  birds  do  sing, 
Cuckoo,  jug-jug,  pu-we,  to-witta-woo! 

The  palm  and  may  make  country  houses  gay, 
Lambs  frisk  and  play,  the  shepherds  pipe  all  day, 
And  we  hear  aye,  birds  tune  this  merry  lay, 
Cuckoo,  jug-jug,  pu-we,  to-witta-woo! 

The  fields  breathe  sweet,  the  daisies  kiss  our  feet, 
Young  lovers  meet,  old  wives  a-sunning  sit, 
In  every  street,  these  tunes  our  ears  do  greet, 
Cuckoo,  jug-jug,  pu-we,  to-witta-woo! 
Spring!  the  sweet  Spring! 

Thomas  Nashe 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


«I  WANDERED  LONELY' 

I  wandered   lonely   as   a  cloud 
That  floats  on  high  o'er  vales  and  hills, 
When  all  at  once  I  saw  a  crowd, 
A  host,  of  golden  daffodils; 
Beside  the  lake,  beneath  the  trees, 
Fluttering  and  dancing  in  the  breeze. 

Continuous  as  the  stars  that  shine 
And  twinkle  on  the  milky  way, 
They  stretched  in  never-ending  line 
Along  the  margin  of  a  bay: 
Ten  thousand  saw  I  at  a  glance, 
Tossing  their  heads  in  sprightly  dance. 

The  waves  beside  them  danced;  but  they 

Out-did  the  sparkling  waves  in  glee: 

A  poet  could  not  but  be  gay, 

In  such  a  jocund  company: 

I  gazed — and  gazed — but  little  thought 

What  wealth  the  show  to  me  had  brought: 

For  oft,  when  on  my  couch  I  He 
In  vacant  or  in  pensive  mood, 
They  flash  upon  that  inward  eye 

[176] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Which  is  the  bliss  of  solitude; 

And  then  my  heart  with  pleasure  fills, 

And  dances  with  the  daffodils. 

William  Wordsworth 


[m] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


THE  GAY  GOSHAWK 

"O  well  is  me,  my  gay  gos-hawk, 
That  you  can  speak  and  flee; 

For  you  can  carry  a  love-letter 
To  my  true  love  frae  me." 

"O  how  can  I  carry  a  letter  to  her, 
Or  how  should  I  her  know? 

I  bear  a  tongue  ne'er  wi'  her  spak', 
And  eyes  that  ne'er  her  saw." 

"The  white  o'  my  love's  skin  is  white 

As  down  o'  dove  or  maw; 
The  red  o'  my  love's  cheek  is  red 

As  blood  that's  spilt  on  snaw. 

"When  ye  come  to  the  castle, 

Light  on  the  tree  of  ash, 
And  sit  ye  there,  and  sing  our  loves 

As  she  comes  frae  the  mass. 

"Four  and  twenty  fair  ladies 

Will  to  the  mass  repair; 
And  weel  may  ye  my  lady  ken, 

The  fairest  lady  there." 

When  the  gos-hawk  flew  to  that  castle, 
He  lighted  on  the  ash; 

[178] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


And  there  he  sat  and  sang  their  loves 
As  she  came  frae  the  mass. 


"Stay  where  ye  be,  my  maidens  a', 

And  sip  red  wine  anon, 
Till  I  go  to  my  west  window 

And  hear  a  birdie's  moan." 

She's  gane  unto  her  west  window", 

The  bolt  she  fainly  drew; 
And  unto  that  lady's  white,  white  neck 

The  bird  a  letter  threw. 


"  Ye're  bidden  to  send  your  love  a  send, 

For  he  has  sent  you  twa; 
And  tell  him  where  he  may  see  you  soon, 

Or  he  cannot  live  ava." 


T  send  him  the  ring  from  my  finger, 
The  garland  off  my  hair, 


179! 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


I  send  him  the  heart  that's  in  my  breast; 

What  would  my  love  have  mair? 
And  at  the  fourth  kirk  in  fair  Scotland, 

Ye'll  bid  him  wait  for  me  there." 


She  hied  her  to  her  father  dear 

As  fast  as  gang  could  she: 
"I'm  sick  at  the  heart,  my  father  dear; 

An  asking  grant  you  me!" 
"Ask  ye  na  for  that  Scottish  lord, 

For  him  ye'll  never  see!" 

"An  asking,  an  asking,  dear  father!"  she  says, 

"An  asking  grant  you  me; 
That  if  I  die  in  fair  England, 

In  Scotland  ye'll  bury  me. 

"At  the  first  kirk  o'  fair  Scotland, 

Ye  cause  the  bells  be  rung; 
At  the  second  kirk  o'  fair  Scotland, 

Ye  cause  the  mass  be  sung; 

"At  the  third  kirk  o'  fair  Scotland, 

Ye  deal  gold  for  my  sake; 
At  the  fourth  kirk  o'  fair  Scotland, 

O  there  ye'll  bury  me  at! 

[1801 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


"This  is  all  my  asking,  father, 

I  pray  ye  grant  it  me!" 
"Your  asking  is  but  small,"  he  said; 

"Weel  granted  it  shall  be. 
But  why  do  ye  talk  o'  suchlike  things? 

For  ye  arena  going  to  dee." 

The  lady's  gane  to  her  chamber, 
And  a  moanfu'  woman  was  she, 

As  gin  she  had  ta'en  a  sudden  brash, 
And  were  about  to  dee. 

The  lady's  gane  to  her  chamber 

As  fast  as  she  could  fare; 
And  she  has  drunk  a  sleepy  draught, 

She  mixed  wi'  mickle  care. 

She's  fallen  into  a  heavy  trance, 
And  pale  and  cold  was  she; 

She  seemed  to  be  as  surely  dead 
As  any  corpse  could  be. 

Out  and  spak'  an  auld  witch- wife, 

At  the  fireside  sat  she: 
''Gin  she  has  killed  herself  for  love, 

I  wot  it  weel  may  be: 

"But  drap  the  het  lead  on  her  cheek, 
And  drap  it  on  her  chin. 

[181] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


And  drap  it  on  her  bosom  white, 
And  she'll  maybe  speak  again. 

"lis  much  that  a  young  lady  will  do 
To  her  true  love  to  win." 

They  drapped  the  het  lead  on  her  cheek, 
They  drapped  it  on  her  chin, 

They  drapped  it  on  her  bosom,  white, 
But  she  spake  none  again. 


Her  brothers  they  went  to  a  room, 

To  make  to  her  a  bier; 
The  boards  were  a'  o'  cedar  wood, 

The  edges  o'  silver  clear. 

Her  sisters  they  went  to  a  room, 

To  make  to  her  a  sark; 
The  cloth  was  a'  o'  the  satin  fine, 

And  the  stitching  silken-wark. 

[182] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


"Now  well  is  me,  my  gay  gos-hawk, 

That  ye  can  speak  and  flee! 
Come  show  me  any  love-tokens 

That  ye  have  brought  to  me." 

"She  sends  ye  her  ring  frae  her  finger  white, 

The  garland  frae  her  hair; 
She  sends  ye  the  heart  within  her  breast; 

And  what  would  ye  have  mair? 
And  at  the  fourth  kirk  o'  fair  Scotland, 

She  bids  ye  wait  for  her  there." 

"Come  hither,  all  my  merry  young  men! 

And  drink  the  good  red  wine; 
For  we  must  on  towards  fair  England 

To  free  my  love  frae  pine." 

The  funeral  came  into  fair  Scotland, 
And  they  gart  the  bells  be  rung; 

And  when  it  came  to  the  second  kirk, 
They  gart  the  mass  be  sung. 

And  when  it  came  to  the  third  kirk, 

They  dealt  gold  for  her  sake; 
And  when  it  came  to  the  fourth  kirk, 

Her  love  was  waiting  thereat. 

At  the  fourth  kirk  in  fair  Scotland 
Stood  spearmen  in  a  row; 

[1831 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


And  up  and  started  her  ain  true  love, 
The  chieftain  over  them  a'. 

"Set  down,  set  down  the  bier,"  he  says, 

"Till  I  look  upon  the  dead; 
The  last  time  that  I  saw  her  face, 

Its  color  was  warm  and  red." 

He  stripped  the  sheet  from  off  her  face 

A  little  below  the  chin; 
The  lady  then  she  opened  her  eyes, 

And  looked  full  on  him. 

"O  give  me  a  shive  o'  your  bread,  love, 
O  give  me  a  cup  o'  your  wine! 

Long  have  I  fasted  for  your  sake, 
And  now  I  fain  would  dine. 

"Gae  hame,  gae  hame,  my  seven  brothers, 

Gae  hame  and  blow  the  horn! 
And  ye  may  say  that  ye  sought  my  skaith, 

And  that  I  hae  gi'en  ye  the  scorn. 

"I  cam'  na  here  to  bonny  Scotland 

To  lie  down  in  the  clay; 
But  I  cam'  here  to  bonny  Scotland, 

To  wear  the  silks  sae  gay ! 

[184] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


"I  cam'  na  here  to  bonny  Scotland, 

Amang  the  dead  to  rest; 
But  I  cam'  here  to  bonny  Scotland 

To  the  man  that  I  lo'e  best!" 


Author  Unknown 


185] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


AN  OLD  SONG  OF  FAIRIES 

Come,  follow,  follow  me, 

You,  fairy  elves  that  be: 

Which  circle  on  the  greene, 

Come,  follow  Mab  your  queene. 
Hand  in  hand  let's  dance  around, 
For  this  place  is  fairye  ground. 

When  mortals  are  at  rest, 

And  snoring  in  their  nest: 

Unheard,  and  unespy'd, 

Through  key-holes  we  do  glide; 
Over  tables,  stools,  and  shelves, 
We  trip  it  with  our  fairy  elves. 

And,  if  the  house  be  foul 

With  platter,  dish,  or  bowl, 

Up  stairs  we  nimbly  creep, 

And  find  the  sluts  asleep: 
There  we  pinch  their  armes  and  thighes; 
None  escapes,  nor  none  espies. 

But  if  the  house  be  swept, 
And  from  uncleanness  kept, 
We  praise  the  household  maid, 
And  duely  she  is  paid: 

[1861 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


For  we  use  before  we  goe 
To  drop  a  tester  in  her  shoe. 

Upon  a  mushroomes  head 

Our  table-cloth  we  spread; 

A  grain  of  rye,  or  wheat, 

Is  manchet,  which  we  eat; 
Pearly  drops  of  dew  we  drink 
In  acorn  cups  fill'd  to  the  brink. 

The  brains  of  nightingales, 
With  unctuous  fat  of  snailes, 
Between  two  cockles  stew'd, 
Is  meat  that's  easily  chew'd; 
Tailes  of  wormes,  and  marrow  of  mice, 
Do  make  a  dish,  that's  wonderous  nice. 

The  grashopper,  gnat,  and  fly, 

Serve  for  our  minstrelsie; 

Grace  said,  we  dance  a  while, 

And  so  the  time  beguile: 
And  if  the  moon  doth  hide  her  head, 
The  gloe-worm  lights  us  home  to  bed. 


On  tops  of  dewie  grasse 
So  nimbly  do  we  passe, 


:i87] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


The  young  and  tender  stalk 

Ne'er  bends  when  we  do  walk: 
Yet  in  the  morning  may  be  seen 
Where  we  the  night  before  have  been. 

Author  Unknown 


U88J 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


MOON  FOLLY 

{The  Song  of  Conn  the  Fool) 

I  will  go  up  the  mountain  after  the  Moon : 
She  is  caught  in  a  dead  fir-tree. 
Like  a  great  pale  apple  of  silver  and  pearl, 
Like  a  great  pale  apple  is  she. 

I  will  leap  and  will  catch  her  with  quick  cold  hands 
And  carry  her  home  in  my  sack. 
I  will  set  her  down  safe  on  the  oaken  bench 
That  stands  at  the  chimney-back. 

And  then  I  will  sit  by  the  fire  all  night, 
And  sit  by  the  fire  all  day. 
I  will  gnaw  at  the  Moon  to  my  heart's  delight 
Till  I  gnaw  her  slowly  away. 

And  while  I  grow  mad  with  the  Moon's  cold  taste 
The  World  will  beat  at  my  door, 
Crying  "Come  out!"  and  crying  "Make  haste, 
And  give  us  the  Moon  once  more!" 

But  I  shall  not  answer  them  ever  at  all. 
I  shall  laugh,  as  I  count  and  hide 
The  great  black  beautiful  Seeds  of  the  Moon 
In  a  flower-pot  deep  and  wide. 

[189] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Then  I  shall  lie  down  and  go  fast  asleep, 
Drunken  with  flame  and  aswoon. 
But  the  seeds  will  sprout  and  the  seeds  will  leap 
The  subtle  swift  seeds  of  the  Moon. 

And  some  day,  all  of  the  World  that  cries 
And  beats  at  my  door  shall  see 
A  thousand  moon-leaves  spring  from  my  thatch 
On  a  wonderful  white  Moon-tree! 

Then  each  shall  have  Moons  to  his  heart's  desire: 
Apples  of  silver  and  pearl; 
Apples  of  orange  and  copper  fire 
Setting  his  five  wits  aswirl ! 

And  then  they  will  thank  me,  who  mock  me  now, 
"Wanting  the  Moon  is  he,"— 
Oh,  I'm  off  to  the  mountain  after  the  Moon, 
Ere  she  falls  from  the  dead  fir-tree ! 

Fannie  Stearns  Gifford 


190] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


STAR-TALK 

"Are  you  awake,  Gemelli, 
This  frosty  night?" 
"We'll  be  awake  till  reveille, 
Which  is  Sunrise,"  say  the  Gemelli, 
"It's  no  good  trying  to  go  to  sleep: 
If  there's  wine  to  be  got  we'll  drink  it  deep, 
But  sleep  is  gone  for  to-night 
But  sleep  is  gone  for  to-night." 

"Are  you  cold,  too,  poor  Pleiads, 

This  frosty  night?" 

"Yes,  and  so  are' the  Hyads: 

See  us  cuddle  and  hug,"  say  the  Pleiads, 

"All  six  in  a  ring:  it  keeps  us  warm: 

We  huddle  together  like  birds  in  a  storm: 

It's  bitter  weather  to-night, 

It's  bitter  weather  to-night." 

"What  do  you  hunt,  Orion, 
This  starry  night?" 
"The  Ram,  the  Bull  and  the  Lion, 
And  the  Great  Bear,"  says  Orion, 
"With  my  starry  quiver  and  beautiful  belt 
I  am  trying  to  find  a  good  thick  pelt 
To  warm  my  shoulders  to-night, 
To  warm  my  shoulders  to-night." 

[193] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


"Did  you  hear  that,  Great  She-bear, 

This  frosty  night?" 

"Yes,  he's  talking  of  stripping  me  bare 

Of  my  own  big  fur,"  says  the  She-bear, 

*Tm  afraid  of  the  man  and  his  terrible  arrow: 

The  thought  of  it  chills  my  bones  to  the  marrow, 

And  the  frost  so  cruel  to-night! 

And  the  frost  so  cruel  to-night!" 

"How  is  your  trade,  Aquarius, 
This  frosty  night?" 
"Complaints  is  many  and  various 
And  my  feet  are  cold,"  says  Aquarius, 
"There's  Venus  objects  to  Dolphin-scales, 
And  Mars  to  Crab-spawn  found  in  my  pails, 
And  the  pump  has  frozen  to-night, 
And  the  pump  has  frozen  to-night." 

Robert  Graves 


[194] 


^3-f>  '  -a-_I[/A[\ 

§lw    '  -         '       If  ^ 

'V/i-Ar  \  \ -/?-/    A~QzX>\\  *. 


mm 


.'•  ifW 


, .  ■.  - 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


JIM  JAY 

Do  diddle  di  do, 

Poor  Jim  Jay 
Got  stuck  fast 

In  Yesterday. 
Squinting  he  was, 

On  cross-legs  bent, 
Never  heeding 

The  wind  was  spent. 
Round  veered  the  weathercock, 

The  sun  drew  in — 
And  stuck  was  Jim 

Like  a  rusty  pin.  .  .  . 
We  pulled  and  we  pulled 

From  seven  till  twelve, 
Jim,  too  frightened 

To  help  himself. 
But  all  in  vain. 

The  clock  struck  one, 
And  there  was  Jim 

A  little  bit  gone. 
At  half-past  five 

You  scarce  could  see 
A  glimpse  of  his  flapping 

Handkerchee. 
And  when  came  noon, 

And  we  climbed  sky-high, 

[1971 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Jim  was  a  speck 

Slip-slipping  by. 
Come  tomorrow, 

The  neighbours  say, 
He'll  be  past  crying  for; 

Poor  Jim  Jay. 

Walter  de  la  Mare 


198] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


THE  GHOSTS  OF  THE  BUFFALOES 

Last  night  at  black  midnight  I  woke  with  a  cry, 

The  windows  were  shaking,  there  was  thunder  on  high, 

The  floor  was  a-tremble,  the  door  was  a- jar, 

White  fires,  crimson  fires,  shone  from  afar. 

I  rushed  to  the  door  yard.   The  city  was  gone. 

My  home  was  a  hut  without  orchard  or  lawn. 

It  was  mud-smear  and  logs  near  a  whispering  stream, 

Nothing  else  built  by  man  could  I  see  in  my  dream.  .  , 

Then  .  .  . 

Ghost-kings  came  headlong,  row  upon  row, 

Gods  of  the  Indians,  torches  aglow. 

They  mounted  the  bear  and  the  elk  and  the  deer, 

And  eagles  gigantic,  aged  and  sere, 

They  rode  long-horn  cattle,  they  cried  "A-la-la." 

They  lifted  the  knife,  the  bow,  and  the  spear, 

They  lifted  ghost-torches  from  dead  fires  below, 

The  midnight  made  grand  with  the  cry  "A-la-la." 

The  midnight  made  grand  with  a  red-god  charge, 

A  red-god  show, 

A  red-god  show, 

"A-la-la,  a-la-la,  a-la-la,  a-la-la." 

With  bodies  like  bronze,  and  terrible  eyes 

Came  the  rank  and  the  file,  with  catamount  cries, 

Gibbering,  yipping,  with  hollow-skull  clacks, 

[1991 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Riding  white  bronchos  with  skeleton  backs, 

Scalp-hunters,  beaded  and  spangled  and  bad, 

Naked  and  lustful  and  foaming  and  mad, 

Flashing  primeval  demoniac  scorn, 

Blood-thirst  and  pomp  amid  darkness  reborn, 

Power  and  glory  that  sleep  in  the  grass 

While  the  winds  and  the  snows  and  the  great  rains  pass. 

They  crossed  the  gray  river,  thousands  abreast, 

They  rode  in  infinite  lines  to  the  west, 

Tide  upon  tide  of  strange  fury  and  foam, 

Spirits  and  wraiths,  the  blue  was  their  home, 

The  sky  was  their  goal  where  the  star-flags  are  furled, 

And  on  past  those  far  golden  splendors  they  whirled. 

They  burned  to  dim  meteors,  lost  in  the  deep. 

And  I  turned  in  dazed  wonder,  thinking  of  sleep. 

And  the  wind  crept  by 

Alone,  unkempt,  unsatisfied, 

The  wind  cried  and  cried — 

Muttered  of  massacres  long  past, 

Buffaloes  in  shambles  vast  .  .  . 

An  owl  said:  "Hark,  what  is  a-wing?" 

I  heard  a  cricket  carolling, 

I  heard  a  cricket  carolling, 

I  heard  a  cricket  carolling. 

Then  .  .  . 

Snuffing  the  lightning  that  crashed  from  on  high 

f  200  1 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Rose  royal  old  buffaloes,  row  upon  row. 

The  lords  of  the  prairie  came  galloping  by. 

And  I  cried  in  my  heart  "A-la-la,  a-la-la, 

A  red-god  show, 

A  red-god  show, 

A-la-la,  a-la-la,  a-la-la,  a-la-la." 

Buffaloes,  buffaloes,  thousands  abreast, 

A  scourge  and  amazement,  they  swept  to  the  west. 

With  black  bobbing  noses,  with  red  rolling  tongues, 

Coughing  forth  steam  from  their  leather-wrapped  lungs, 

Cows  with  their  calves,  bulls  big  and  vain, 

Goring  the  laggards,  shaking  the  mane, 

Stamping  flint  feet,  flashing  moon  eyes, 

Pompous  and  owlish,  shaggy  and  wise. 

Like  sea-cliffs  and  caves  resounded  their  ranks 

With  shoulders  like  waves,  and  undulant  flanks. 

Tide  upon  tide  of  strange  fury  and  foam, 

Spirits  and  wraiths,  the  blue  was  their  home, 

The  sky  was  their  goal  where  the  star-flags  are  furled, 

And  on  past  those  far  golden  splendors  they  whirled. 

They  burned  to  dim  meteors,  lost  in  the  deep, 

And  I  turned  in  dazed  wonder,  thinking  of  sleep. 

I  heard  a  cricket's  cymbals  play, 
A  scarecrow  lightly  flapped  his  rags, 
And  a  pan  that  hung  by  his  shoulder  rang, 
Rattled  and  thumped  in  a  listless  way, 

[2011 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


And  now  the  wind  in  the  chimney  sang, 

The  wind  in  the  chimney, 

The  wind  in  the  chimney, 

The  wind  in  the  chimney, 

Seemed  to  say: — 

"Dream,  boy,  dream, 

If  you  anywise  can. 

To  dream  is  the  work 

Of  beast  or  man. 

Life  is  the  west-going  dream-storm's  breath, 

Life  is  a  dream,  the  sigh  of  the  skies, 

The  breath  of  the  stars,  that  nod  on  their  pillows 

With  their  golden  hair  mussed  over  their  eyes." 

The  locust  played  on  his  musical  wing, 

Sang  to  his  mate  of  love's  delight. 

I  heard  the  whippoorwill's  soft  fret. 

I  heard  a  cricket  carolling, 

I  heard  a  cricket  carolling, 

I  heard  a  cricket  say:  "Good-night,  good-night, 

Good-night,  good-night,  .  .  .  good-night." 

Vachel  Lindsay 


202] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


A  CHRISTMAS  CAROL 

In  the  bleak  mid- winter 

Frosty  wind  made  moan, 
Earth  stood  hard  as  iron, 

Water  like  a  stone; 
Snow  had  fallen,  snow  on  snow, 

Snow  on  snow, 
In  the  bleak  mid-winter 

Long  ago. 

Our  God,  Heaven  cannot  hold  Him 

Nor  earth  sustain; 
Heaven  and  earth  shall  flee  away 

When  He  comes  to  reign: 
In  the  bleak  mid-winter 

A  stable-place  sufficed 
The  Lord  God  Almighty 

Jesus  Christ. 

Enough  for  Him,  whom  cherubim 

Worship  night  and  day, 
A  breastful  of  milk 

And  a  mangerful  of  hay; 
Enough  for  Him,  whom  angels 

Fall  down  before, 
The  ox  and  ass  and  camel 

Which  adore. 

[203] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Angels  and  archangels 

May  have  gathered  there, 
Cherubim  and  seraphim 

Thronged  the  air; 
But  only  His  mother 

In  her  maiden  bliss 
Worshipped  the  Beloved 

With  a  kiss. 

What  can  I  give  Him, 

Poor  as  I  am? 
If  I  were  a  shepherd 

I  would  bring  a  lamb, 
If  I  were  a  Wise  Man 

I  would  do  my  part, — 
Yet  what  I  can  I  give  Him, 

Give  my  heart. 

Christina  Rossetti 


[204] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


ESCAPE  AT  BEDTIME 

The  lights  from  the  parlour  and  kitchen  shone  out 

Through  the  blinds  and  the  windows  and  bars; 
And  high  overhead  and  all  moving  about, 

There  were  thousands  of  millions  of  stars. 
There  ne'er  were  such  thousands  of  leaves  on  a  tree 

Nor  of  people  in  church  or  the  Park, 
As  the  crowds  of  the  stars  that  looked  down  upon  me, 

And  that  glittered  and  winked  in  the  dark. 

The  Dog,  and  the  Plough,  and  the  Hunter,  and  all, 

And  the  star  of  the  sailor,  and  Mars, 
These  shone  in  the  sky,  and  the  pail  by  the  wall 

Would  be  half  full  of  water  and  stars. 
They  saw  me  at  last,  and  they  chased  me  with  cries, 

And  they  soon  had  me  packed  into  bed; 
But  the  glory  kept  shining  and  bright  in  my  eyes, 

And  the  stars  going  round  in  my  head. 

Robert  Louis  Stevenson 


205] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


SONG  OF  THE  CHATTAHOOCHEE 

Out  of  the  hills  of  Habersham, 

Down  the  valleys  of  Hall, 
I  hurry  amain  to  reach  the  plain, 
Run  the  rapid  and  leap  the  fall, 
Split  at  the  rock  and  together  again, 
Accept  my  bed,  or  narrow  or  wide, 
And  flee  from  folly  on  every  side 
With  a  lover's  pain  to  attain  the  plain 

Far  from  the  hills  of  Habersham, 

Far  from  the  valleys  of  Hall. 

All  down  the  hills  of  Habersham, 

All  through  the  valleys  of  Hall, 
The  rushes  cried  Abide,  abide, 
The  wilful  waterweeds  held  me  thrall, 
The  laving  laurel  turned  my  tide, 
The  ferns  and  the  fondling  grass  said  Stay, 
The  dewberry  dipped  for  to  work  delay, 
And  the  little  reeds  sighed  Abide,  abide, 

Here  in  the  hills  of  Habersham, 

Here  in  the  valleys  of  Hall. 

High  o'er  the  hills  of  Habersham, 
Veiling  the  valleys  of  Hall, 
The  hickory  told  me  manifold 

[2061 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Fair  tales  of  shade,  the  poplar  tall 
Wrought  me  her  shadowy  self  to  hold, 
The  chestnut,  the  oak,  the  walnut,  the  pine, 
Overleaning,  with  flickering  meaning  and  sign, 
Said,  Pass  not,  so  cold,  these  manifold 
Deep  shades  of  the  hills  of  Habersham^ 
These  glades  in  the  valleys  of  Hall. 


And  oft  in  the  hills  of  Habersham, 

And  oft  in  the  valleys  of  Hall, 
The  white  quartz  shone,  and  the  smooth  brook-stone 
Did  bar  me  of  passage  with  friendly  brawl, 
And  many  a  luminous  jewel  lone 
— Crystals  clear  or  a-cloud  with  mist, 
Ruby,  garnet  and  amethyst — 
Made  lures  with  the  lights  of  streaming  stone 

In  the  clefts  of  the  hills  of  Habersham, 

In  the  beds  of  the  valleys  of  Hall. 


But  oh,  not  the  hills  of  Habersham, 

And  oh,  not  the  valleys  of  Hall 
Avail:  I  am  fain  for  to  water  the  plam. 
Downward  the  voices  of  Duty  call — 
Downward,  to  toil  and  be  mixed  with  the  main. 
The  dry  fields  bum,  and  the  mills  are  to  turn, 
And  a  myriad  flowers  mortally  yearn, 

[207] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


And  the  lordly  main  from  beyond  the  plain 
Calls  o'er  the  hills  of  Habersham, 
Calls  through  the  valleys  of  Hall. 

Sidney  Lanier 


/37*r*m*\ 


[208] 


2v  »??> ":"■''  :^T;-: '/;»?  ^  '•~'<\'<~'» 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


SEA  FEVER 

I  must  go  down  to  the  seas  again,  to  the  lonely  sea  and  the 

sky, 
And  all  I  ask  is  a  tall  ship  and  a  star  to  steer  her  by; 
And  the  wheel's  kick  and  the  wind's  song  and  the  white 

sail's  shaking, 
And  a  gray  mist  on  the  sea's  face,  and  a  gray  dawn  breaking. 

I  must  go  down  to  the  seas  again,  for  the  call  of  the  running 

tide 
Is  a  wild  call  and  a  clear  call  that  may  not  be  denied; 
And  all  I  ask  is  a  windy  day  with  the  white  clouds  flying, 
And  the  flung  spray  and  the  blown  spume,  and  the  sea-gulls 

crying. 

I  must  go  down  to  the  seas  again,  to  the  vagrant  gipsy  life, 
To  the  gull's  way  and  the  whale's  way  where  the  wind's  like 

a  whetted  knife; 
And  all  I  ask  is  a  merry  yarn  from  a  laughing  fellow-rover, 
And  quiet  sleep  and  a  sweet  dream  when  the  long  trick's 

over. 

John  Masefield 


1211 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


"O  CAPTAIN!  MY  CAPTAIN!" 

{In  Memory  of  Abraham  Lincoln) 

O  Captain!  my  Captain!  our  fearful  trip  is  done, 

The  ship  has  weather'd  every  rack,  the  prize  we  sought  is 

won, 
The  port  is  near,  the  bells  I  hear,  the  people  all  exulting, 
While  follow  eyes  the  steady  keel,  the  vessel  grim  and  daring; 
But  O  heart!  heart!  heart! 
O  the  bleeding  drops  of  red ! 

Where  on  the  deck  my  Captain  lies, 
Fallen  cold  and  dead. 

O  Captain!  my  Captain!  rise  up  and  hear  the  bells; 

Rise  up — f or  you  the  flag  is  flung — f or  you  the  bugle  trills, 

For  you  bouquets  and  ribbon'd  wreaths — for  you  the  shores 

a-crowding, 
For  you  they  call,  the  swaying  mass,  their  eager  faces  turn- 
ing; 

Here,  Captain!  dear  father! 
This  arm  beneath  your  head! 

It  is  some  dream  that  on  the  deck 
You've  fallen  cold  and  dead. 

My  Captain  does  not  answer,  his  lips  are  pale  and  still, 
My  father  does  not  feel  my  arm,  he  has  no  pulse  nor  will; 
The  ship  is  anchor'd  safe  and  sound,  its  voyage  closed  and 
done, 

[2121 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


From  fearful  trip  the  victor  ship  comes  in  with  object  won; 
Exult,  O  shores!  and  ring,  O  bells! 
But  I,  with  mournful  tread, 
Walk  the  deck  my  Captain  lies, 
Fallen  cold  and  dead. 


Walt  Whitman 


[213] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


THE  SNOW 

It  sifts  from  leaden  sieves, 
It  powders  all  the  wood, 
It  fills  with  alabaster  wool 
The  wrinkles  of  the  road. 

It  makes  an  even  face 
Of  mountain  and  of  plain, — 
Unbroken  forehead  from  the  east 
Unto  the  east  again. 

It  reaches  to  the  fence, 
It  wraps  it,  rail  by  rail, 
Till  it  is  lost  in  fleeces; 
It  flings  a  crystal  veil 

On  stump  and  stack  and  stem, — 
The  summer's  empty  room, 
Acres  of  seams  where  harvests  were, 
Recordless,  but  for  them. 

It  ruffles  wrists  of  posts, 

As  ankles  of  a  queen, — 

Then  stills  its  artisans  like  ghosts, 

Denying  they  have  been. 


Emily  Dickinson 


214 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


A  SONG  FOR  MY  MOTHER:  HER  HANDS 

My  mother's  hands  are  cool  and  fair, 

They  can  do  anything. 
Delicate  mercies  hide  them  there 

Like  flowers  in  the  spring. 

When  I  was  small  and  could  not  sleep, 

She  used  to  come  to  me, 
And  with  my  cheek  upon  her  hand 

How  sure  my  rest  would  be. 

For  everything  she  ever  touched 

Of  beautiful  or  fine, 
Their  memories  living  in  her  hands 

Would  warm  that  sleep  of  mine. 

Her  hands  remember  how  they  played 
One  time  in  meadow  streams, — 

And  all  the  nickering  song  and  shade 
Of  water  took  my  dreams. 

Swift  through  her  haunted  fingers  pass 
Memories  of  garden  things; — 

I  dipped  my  face  in  flowers  and  grass 
And  sounds  of  hidden  wings. 

One  time  she  touched  the  cloud  that  kissed 
Brown  pastures  bleak  and  far; — 

[2151 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


I  leaned  my  cheek  into  a  mist 
And  thought  I  was  a  star. 

All  this  was  very  long  ago 
And  I  am  grown;  but  yet 

The  hand  that  lured  my  slumber  so 
I  never  can  forget. 

For  still  when  drowsiness  comes  on 
It  seems  so  soft  and  cool, 

Shaped  happily  beneath  my  cheek, 
Hollow  and  beautiful. 


Anna  Hempstead  Branch 


[216] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


THE  FOUNTAIN 

Into  the  sunshine, 
Full  of  the  light, 

Leaping  and  flashing 
From  morn  till  night! 


Into  the  moonlight, 
Whiter  than  snow, 

Waving  so  flower-like 
When  the  winds  blow! 

Into  the  starlight, 
Rushing  in  spray, 

Happy  at  midnight, 
Happy  by  day! 

Ever  in  motion, 

Blithesome  and  cheery. 
Still  climbing  heavenwards 

Never  aweary; — 

Glad  of  all  weathers, 
Still  seeming  best, 

Upward  or  downward, 
Motion  thy  rest; — 

(217] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Full  of  a  nature 

Nothing  can  tame, 
Changed  every  moment, 

Ever  the  same; — 

Ceaseless  aspiring, 

Ceaseless  content, 
Darkness  or  sunshine 

Thy  element; — 

Glorious  fountain! 

Let  my  heart  be 
Fresh,  changeful,  constant, 

Upward,  like  thee! 

James  Russell  Lowell 


[218] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


NATURE'S  FRIEND 

Say  what  you  like, 
All  things  love  mel 

I  pick  no  flowers — 
That  wins  the  Bee. 


The  Summer's  Moths 
Think  my  hand  one—' 

To  touch  their  wings — 
With  Wind  and  Sun. 

The  garden  Mouse 
Comes  near  to  play; 

Indeed,  he  turns 
His  eyes  away. 

The  Wren  knows  well 

I  rob  no  nest: 
When  I  look  in, 

She  still  will  rest. 

The  hedge  stops  Cows, 
Or  they  would  come 

After  my  voice 

Right  to  my  home. 

[221] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


The  Horse  can  tell, 
Straight  from  my  lip, 

My  hand  could  not 
Hold  any  whip. 

Say  what  you  like, 
All  things  love  me! 

Horse,  Cow,  and  Mouse, 
Bird,  Moth  and  Bee. 


William  H.  Dames 


222] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


TREE-TOAD 

Tree-toad  is  a  small  gray  person 

With  a  silver  voice. 

Tree-toad  is  a  leaf-gray  shadow 

That  sings. 

Tree-toad  is  never  seen 

Unless  a  star  squeezes  through  the  leaves, 

Or  a  moth  looks  sharply  at  a  gray  branch. 

How  would  it  be,  I  wonder, 

To  sing  patiently  all  night, 

Never  thinking  that  people  are  asleep? 

Raindrops  and  mist,  starriness  over  the  trees, 

The  moon,  the  dew,  the  other  little  singers, 

Cricket  .  .  .  toad  .  .  .  leaf  rustling  ... 

They  would  listen: 

It  would  be  music  like  weather 

That  gets  into  all  the  corners 

Of  out-of-doors. 


Every  night  I  see  little  shadows 

I  never  saw  before. 

Every  night  I  hear  little  voices 

I  never  heard  before. 

When  night  comes  trailing  her  starry  cloak, 

I  start  out  for  slumberland, 

With  tree-toads  calling  along  the  roadside. 

[223] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Good-night,  I  say  to  one,  Good-by,  I  say  to  another* 

I  hope  to  find  you  on  the  way 

We  have  traveled  before! 

I  hope  to  hear  you  singing  on  the  Road  of  Dreams! 


Hilda  Conkling 
(Six  years  old) 


[9S4] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


AN  ANCIENT  CHRISTMAS  CAROL 


He  came  all  so  still 

Where  His  mother  was, 

As  dew  in  April 

That  f  alleth  on  the  grass. 

He  came  all  so  still 

Where  His  mother  lay, 
As  dew  in  April 

That  f alleth  on  the  spray. 

He  came  all  so  still 

To  His  mother's  bower, 

As  dew  in  April 

That  f alleth  on  the  flower. 

Mother  and  maiden 

Was  never  none  but  she! 

Well  might  such  a  lady 
God's  mother  be. 

Author  TJnknowri 


[115] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


AN  OLD  CHRISTMAS  CAROL 

As  Joseph  was  a-waukin', 
He  heard  an  angel  sing, 

"This  night  shall  be  the  birthnight 
Of  Christ  our  heavenly  King. 

"His  birth-bed  shall  be  neither 

In  housen  nor  in  hall, 
Nor  in  the  place  of  paradise, 

But  in  the  oxen's  stall. 

"He  neither  shall  be  rocked 
In  silver  nor  in  gold, 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


But  in  the  wooden  manger 
That  lieth  in  the  mould. 

"He  neither  shall  be  washen 
With  white  wine  nor  with  red, 

But  with  the  fair  spring  water 
That  on  you  shall  be  shed. 

"He  neither  shall  be  clothed 

In  purple  nor  in  pall, 
But  in  the  fair,  white  linen 

That  usen  babies  all."  " 

As  Joseph  was  a-waukin', 
Thus  did  the  angel  sing, 

And  Mary's  son  at  midnight 
Was  born  to  be  our  King. 

Then  be  you  glad,  good  people, 
At  this  time  of  the  year; 

And  light  you  up  your  candles, 
For  His  star  it  shineth  clear. 


Author  Unknown 


[«27] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


KING  JOHN  AND  THE  ABBOT  OF  CANTERBURY 

An  ancient  story  I'll  tell  you  anon 
Of  a  notable  prince  that  was  called  King  John; 
And  he  ruled  England  with  main  and  with  might, 
For  he  did  great  wrong,  and  maintained  little  right. 

And  I'll  tell  you  a  story,  a  story  so  merry, 
Concerning  the  Abbot  of  Canterbury; 
How  for  his  house-keeping  and  high  renown, 
They  rode  post  for  him  to  fair  London  town. 

An  hundred  men  the  king  did  hear  say, 
The  abbot  kept  in  his  house  every  day; 
And  fifty  gold  chains  without  any  doubt, 
In  velvet  coats  waited  the  abbot  about. 

"How  now,  father  abbot,  I  hear  it  of  thee, 

Thou  keepest  a  far  better  house  than  me; 

And  for  thy  house-keeping  and  high  renown, 

I  fear  thou  work'st  treason  against  my  own  crown." 

"My  liege,"  quo'  the  abbot,  "I  would  it  were  known 
I  never  spend  nothing,  but  what  is  my  own; 
And  I  trust  your  grace  will  do  me  no  deere, 
For  spending  of  my  own  true-gotton  gear." 

"Yes,  yes,  father  abbot,  thy  fault  it  is  high, 
And  now  for  the  same  thou  needest  must  die; 
For  except  thou  canst  answer  me  questions  three, 
Thy  head  shall  be  smitten  from  thy  bodie. 

[228] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


"And  first,"  quo'  the  king,  "when  I'm  in  this  stead, 
With  my  crown  of  gold  so  fair  on  my  head, 
Among  all  my  liege-men  so  noble  of  birth, 
Thou  must  tell  me  to  one  penny  what  I  am  worth. 

"Secondly,  tell  me,  without  any  doubt, 
How  soon  I  may  ride  the  whole  world  about; 
And  at  the  third  question,  thou  must  not  shrink, 
But  tell  me  here  truly  what  I  do  think." 

"O  these  are  hard  questions  for  my  shallow  wit, 
Nor  I  cannot  answer  your  grace  as  yet: 
But  if  you  will  give  me  but  three  weeks'  space, 
I'll  do  my  endeavor  to  answer  your  grace." 

"Now  three  weeks'  space  to  thee  will  I  give, 
And  that  is  the  longest  time  thou  hast  to  live; 
For  if  thou  dost  not  answer  my  questions  three, 
Thy  lands  and  thy  livings  are  forfeit  to  me." 


229 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Away  rode  the  abbot  all  sad  at  that  word, 
And  he  rode  to  Cambridge,  and  Oxenford; 
But  never  a  doctor  there  was  so  wise, 
That  could  with  his  learning  an  answer  devise. 

Then  home  rode  the  abbot  of  comfort  so  cold, 
And  he  met  his  shepherd  a-going  to  fold : 
"How  now,  my  lord  abbot,  you  are  welcome  home; 
What  news  do  you  bring  us  from  good  King  John?" 

"Sad  news,  sad  news,  shepherd,  I  must  give, 
That  I  have  but  three  days  more  to  live; 
For  if  I  do  not  answer  him  questions  three, 
My  head  will  be  smitten  from  my  bodie. 

"The  first  is  to  tell  him  there  in  that  stead, 
With  his  crown  of  gold  so  fair  on  his  head, 
Among  all  his  liege-men  so  noble  of  birth, 
To  within  one  penny  of  what  he  is  worth. 

"The  second,  to  tell  him  without  any  doubt, 
How  soon  he  may  ride  this  whole  world  about; 
And  at  the  third  question  I  must  not  shrink, 
But  tell  him  there  truly  what  he  does  think." 

"Now  cheer  up,  sire  abbot,  did  you  never  hear  yet 
That  a  fool  he  may  learn  a  wise  man  wit? 
Lend  me  horse,  and  serving-men,  and  your  apparel, 
And  I'll  ride  to  London  to  answer  your  quarrel. 

[230] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


"Nay,  frown  not,  if  it  hath  been  told  unto  me, 

I  am  like  your  lordship,  as  ever  may  be; 

And  if  you  will  but  lend  me  your  gown, 

There  is  none  shall  know  us  at  fair  London  town." 

"Now  horses  and  serving-men  thou  shalt  have, 
With  sumptuous  array  most  gallant  and  brave, 
With  crozier  and  mitre,  and  rochet,  and  cope, 
Fit  to  appear  'fore  our  Father  the  Pope." 

"Now  welcome,  sire  abbot,"  the  king  he  did  say, 
"'Tis  well  thou'rt  come  back  to  keep  thy  day: 
For  and  if  thou  canst  answer  my  questions  three, 
Thy  life  and  thy  living  both  saved  shall  be. 

"And  first,  when  thou  seest  me  here  in  this  stead, 
With  my  crown  of  gold  so  fair  on  my  head, 
Among  all  my  liege-men  so  noble  of  birth, 
Tell  me  to  one  penny  what  I  am  worth." 

"For  thirty  pence  our  Saviour  was  sold 
Among  the  false  Jews,  as  I  have  been  told, 
And  twenty-nine  is  the  worth  of  thee, 
For  I  think  thou  art  one  penny  worser  than  he." 


231] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


The  king  he  laughed,  and  swore  by  St.  Bittel, 
"I  did  not  think  I  had  been  worth  so  little! 
— Now  secondly  tell  me,  without  any  doubt, 
How  soon  I  may  ride  this  whole  world  about." 


"You  must  rise  with  the  sun,  and  ride  with  the  same 
Until  the  next  morning  he  riseth  again; 
And  then  your  grace  need  not  make  any  doubt 
But  in  twenty-four  hours  you'll  ride  it  about." 


The  king  he  laughed,  and  swore  by  St.  Jone, 

"I  did  not  think  it  could  be  done  so  soon! 

— Now  from  the  third  question  thou  must  not  shrink, 

But  tell  me  here  truly  what  I  do  think." 


"Yea,  that  shall  I  do,  and  make  your  grace  merry; 
You  think  I'm  the  Abbot  of  Canterbury; 
But  I'm  his  poor  shepherd,  as  plain  you  may  see, 
That  am  come  to  beg  pardon  for  him  and  for  me." 


The  king  he  laughed  and  swore  by  the  Mass, 
"I'll  make  thee  lord  abbot  this  day  in  this  place!" 
"Now  nay,  my  liege,  be  not  in  such  speed, 
Por  alack  I  can  neither  write  nor  read." 

[232] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


"Four  nobles  a  week,  then,  I  will  give  thee, 
For  this  merry  jest  thou  hast  shown  unto  me; 
And  tell  the  old  abbot  when  thou  comest  home, 
Thou  hast  brought  him  a  pardon  from  good  King 
John." 

Author  Unknown 


f«S3j 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


THE  SANDS  OF  DEE 

"O  Mary,  go  and  call  the  cattle  home, 
And  call  the  cattle  home, 
And  call  the  cattle  home 
Across  the  sands  of  Dee!" 
The  western  wind  was  wild  and  dank  with  foam, 
And  all  alone  went  she. 


The  western  tide  crept  up  along  the  sand, 
And  o'er  and  o'er  the  sand, 
And  round  and  round  the  sand, 
As  far  as  eye  could  see. 
The  rolling  mist  came  down  and  hid  the  land: 
And  never  home  came  she. 


"Oh!  is  it  weed,  or  fish,  or  floating  hair — 
A  tress  of  golden  hair, 
A  drowned  maiden's  hair 
Above  the  nets  at  sea? 
Was  never  salmon  yet  that  shone  so  fair 
Among  the  stakes  on  Dee." 

They  rowed  her  in  across  the  rolling  foam, 
The  cruel  crawling  foam, 
The  cruel  hungry  foam, 

[234] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


To  her  grave  beside  the  sea: 
But  still  the  boatmen  hear  her  call  the  cattle  home 
Across  the  sands  of  Dee! 


Charles  Kingsley 


[835] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


SISTER,  AWAKE! 

(Old  English  Song) 

Sister,  awake!  close  not  your  eyes! 

The  day  her  light  discloses, 
And  the  bright  morning  doth  arise 

Out  of  her  bed  of  roses. 

See  the  clear  sun,  the  world's  bright  eye, 

In  at  our  window  peeping: 
Lo,  how  he  blusheth  to  espy 

Us  idle  wenches  sleeping! 

Therefore  awake !  make  haste,  I  say, 

And  let  us,  without  staying, 
All  in  our  gowns  of  green  so  gay 

Into  the  Park  a-maying! 

Author  Unknown 


[236] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


THE  SKELETON  IN  ARMOR 

"Speak!  speak!  thou  fearful  guest! 
Who,  with  thy  hollow  breast 
Still  in  rude  armor  dressed, 

Comest  to  daunt  me! 
Wrapped  not  in  Eastern  balms, 
But  with  thy  fleshless  palms 
Stretched,  as  if  asking  alms, 

Why  dost  thou  haunt  me?" 

Then,  from  those  cavernous  eyes 
Pale  flashes  seemed  to  rise, 
As  when  the  Northern  skies 

Gleam  in  December; 
And,  like  the  water's  flow 
Under  December's  snow, 
Came  a  dull  voice  of  woe 

From  the  heart's  chamber. 

"I  was  a  Viking  old! 

My  deeds,  though  manifold, 

No  Skald  in  song  has  told, 

No  Saga  taught  thee! 
Take  heed,  that  in  thy  verse 
Thou  dost  the  tale  rehearse, 
Else  dread  a  dead  man's  curse 

For  this  I  sought  thee. 

[237] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


"Far  in  the  Northern  Land, 
By  the  wild  Baltic's  strand, 
I  with  my  childish  hand, 

Tamed  the  gerfalcon; 
And,  with  my  skates  fast-bound, 
Skimmed  the  half-frozen  Sound, 
That  the  poor  whimpering  hound 

Trembled  to  walk  on. 

"Oft  to  his  frozen  lair 
Tracked  I  the  grisly  bear, 
While  from  my  path  the  hare 

Fled  like  a  shadow; 
Oft  through  the  forest  dark 
Followed  the  were-wolf's  bark, 
Until  the  soaring  lark 

Sang  from  the  meadow. 

"But  when  I  older  grew, 
Joining  a  corsair's  crew, 
O'er  the  dark  sea  I  flew 

With  the  marauders. 
Wild  was  the  life  we  led; 
Many  the  souls  that  sped, 
Many  the  hearts  that  bled, 

By  our  stern  orders. 

"Many  a  wassail-bout 
Wore  the  long  Winter  out; 

[2381 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Often  our  midnight  shout 

Set  the  cocks  crowing, 
As  we  the  Berserk's  tale 
Measured  in  cups  of  ale, 
Draining  the  oaken  pail, 

Filled  to  o'erflowing. 

"Once  as  I  told  in  glee 
Tales  of  the  stormy  sea, 
Soft  eyes  did  gaze  on  me, 

Burning  yet  tender; 
And  as  the  white  stars  shine 
On  the  dark  Norway  pine, 
On  that  dark  heart  of  mine 

Fell  their  soft  splendor. 

"I  wooed  the  blue-eyed  maid, 
Yielding,  yet  half  afraid, 
And  in  the  forest's  shade 

Our  vows  were  plighted. 
Under  its  loosened  vest 
Fluttered  her  little  breast, 
Like  birds  within  their  nest 

By  the  hawk  frighted. 

"Bright  in  her  father's  hall 
Shields  gleamed  upon  the  wall, 
Loud  sang  the  minstrels  all, 
Chanting  his  glory; 

[239] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


When  of  old  Hildebrand 
I  asked  his  daughter's  hand, 
Mute  did  the  minstrels  stand 
To  hear  my  story. 

"While  the  brown  ale  he  quaffed, 
Loud  then  the  champion  laughed, 
And  as  the  wind-gusts  waft 

The  sea-foam  brightly, 
So  the  loud  laugh  of  scorn, 
Out  of  those  lips  unshorn, 
From  the  deep  drinking-horn 

Blew  the  foam  lightly. 

"She  was  a  Prince's  child, 

I  but  a  Viking  wild, 

And  though  she  blushed  and  smiled, 

I  was  discarded! 
Should  not  the  dove  so  white 
Follow  the  sea-mew's  flight, 
Why  did  they  leave  that  night 

Her  nest  unguarded? 

"Scarce  had  I  put  to  sea, 
Bearing  the  maid  with  me, 
Fairest  of  all  was  she 

Among  the  Norsemen! 

[240] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


When  on  the  white  sea-strand, 
Waving  his  armed  hand, 
Saw  we  old  Hildebrand, 

With  twenty  horsemen. 

"Then  launched  they  to  the  blast, 
Bent  like  a  reed  each  mast, 
Yet  we  were  gaining  fast, 

When  the  wind  failed  us; 
And  with  a  sudden  flaw 
Came  round  the  gusty  Skaw, 
So  that  our  foe  we  saw 

Laugh  as  he  hailed  us. 

"And  as  to  catch  the  gale 
Round  veered  the  flapping  sail, 
'Death!'  was  the  helmsman's  hail, 

'Death  without  quarter!' 
Mid-ships  with  iron  keel 
Struck  we  her  ribs  of  steel; 
Down  her  black  hulk  did  reel 

Through  the  black  water! 

"As  with  his  wings  aslant, 
Sails  the  fierce  cormorant, 
Seeking  some  rocky  haunt, 

With  his  prey  laden, — 

[2411 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


So  toward  the  open  main, 
Beating  to  sea  again, 
Through  the  wild  hurricane, 
Bore  I  the  maiden. 

"Three  weeks  we  westward  bore, 
And  when  the  storm  was  o'er, 
Cloud-like  we  saw  the  shore 

Stretching  to  leeward; 
There  for  my  lady's  bower 
Built  I  the  lofty  tower, 
Which,  to  this  very  hour, 

Stands  looking  seaward. 

"There  lived  we  many  years; 
Time  dried  the  maiden's  tears; 
She  had  forgot  her  fears, 

She  was  a  mother; 
Death  closed  her  mild  blue  eyes, 
Under  that  tower  she  lies; 
Ne'er  shall  the  sun  arise 

On  such  another! 

"Still  grew  my  bosom  then, 
Still  as  a  stagnant  fen ! 
Hateful  to  me  were  men, 

The  sunlight  hateful! 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


In  the  vast  forest  here, 
Clad  in  my  warlike  gear, 
Fell  I  upon  my  spear, 

Oh,  death  was  grateful! 

"Thus,  seamed  with  many  scars, 
Bursting  these  prison  bars, 
Up  to  its  native  stars 

My  soul  ascended! 
There  from  the  flowing  bowl 
Deep  drinks  the  warrior's  soul, 
Skoal!  to  the  Northland!  skoal!" 

Thus  the  tale  ended. 

Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow 


[<MSj 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


BY  BENDEMEER'S  STREAM 

Theee's  a  bower  of  roses  by  Bendemeer's  stream, 
And  the  nightingale  sings  round  it  all  the  day  long; 

In  the  time  of  my  childhood  'twas  like  a  sweet  dream. 
To  sit  in  the  roses  and  hear  the  bird's  song. 

That  bower  and  its  music  I  never  forget, 

But  oft  when  alone,  in  the  bloom  of  the  year, 

I  think — is  the  nightingale  singing  there  yet? 

Are  the  roses  still  bright  by  the  calm  Bendemeer? 

No,  the  roses  soon  wither'd  that  hung  o'er  the  wave, 
But  some  blossoms  were  gather'd  while  freshly  they 
shone, 

And  a  dew  was  distill'd  from  their  flowers,  that  gave 
All  the  fragrance  of  summer,  when  summer  was  gone. 

Thus  memory  draws  from  delight,  ere  it  dies, 
An  essence  that  breathes  of  it  many  a  year; 

Thus  bright  to  my  soul,  as  'twas  then  to  my  eyes, 
Is  that  bower  on  the  banks  of  the  calm  Bendemeer! 

Thomas  Moore 


244] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


A  PRAYER 

Teach  me,  Father,  how  to  go 
Softly  as  the  grasses  grow; 
Hush  my  soul  to  meet  the  shock 
Of  the  wild  world  as  a  rock; 
But  my  spirit,  propt  with  power, 
Make  as  simple  as  a  flower. 
Let  the  dry  heart  fill  its  cup, 
Like  a  poppy  looking  up; 
Let  life  lightly  wear  her  crown, 
Like  a  poppy  looking  down. 

Teach  me,  Father,  how  to  be 
Kind  and  patient  as  a  tree. 
Joyfully  the  crickets  croon 
Under  shady  oak  at  noon; 
Beetle,  on  his  mission  bent, 
Tarries  in  that  cooling  tent. 
Let  me,  also,  cheer  a  spot, 
Hidden  field  or  garden  grot — 
Place  where  passing  souls  can  rest 
On  the  way  and  be  their  best. 

Edwin  Markham 


[245; 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


YOUNG  LOCHINVAR 

O,  young  Lochinvar  is  come  out  of  the  West! 
Through  all  the  wide  Border  his  steed  was  the  best; 
And  save  his  good  broadsword,  he  weapons  had  none; 
He  rode  all  unarm'd,  and  he  rode  all  alone. 
So  faithful  in  love,  and  so  dauntless  in  war, 
There  never  was  knight  like  the  young  Lochinvar. 

He  stay'd  not  for  brake  and  he  stopp'd  not  for  stone; 

He  swam  the  Eske  river  where  ford  there  was  none; 

But  ere  he  alighted  at  Netherby  gate, 

The  bride  had  consented,  the  gallant  came  late; 

For  a  laggard  in  love,  and  a  dastard  in  war, 

Was  to  wed  the  fair  Ellen  of  brave  Lochinvar. 

So  boldly  he  enter'd  the  Netherby  Hall, 

Among  bridesmen,  and  kinsmen,  and  brothers,  and  all;- 

Then  spoke  the  bride's  father,  his  hand  on  his  sword 

(For  the  poor  craven  bridegroom  said  never  a  word), 

'O,  come  ye  in  peace  here,  or  come  ye  in  war, 

Or  to  dance  at  our  bridal,  young  Lord  Lochinvar?*' 

'I  long  woo'd  your  daughter,  my  suit  you  denied; — 
Love  swells  like  the  Sol  way,  but  ebbs  like  its  tide; — 
And  now  I  am  come  with  this  lost  Love  of  mine 
To  lead  but  one  measure,  drink  one  cup  of  wine. 

[  *46  I 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


There  are  maidens  in  Scotland  more  lovely  by  far, 
That  would  gladly  be  bride  to  the  young  Lochinvar!' 

The  bride  kiss'd  the  goblet:  the  knight  took  it  up, 
He  quaff'd  off  the  wine  and  he  threw  down  the  cup. 
She  look'd  down  to  blush,  and  she  look'd  up  to  sigh, 
With  a  smile  on  her  lips,  and  a  tear  in  her  eye. 
He  took  her  soft  hand,  ere  her  mother  could  bar, — 
'Now  tread  we  a  measure!'  said  young  Lochinvar. 

So  stately  his  form  and  so  lovely  her  face, 

That  never  a  hall  such  a  galliard  did  grace; 

While  her  mother  did  fret,  and  her  father  did  fume, 

And  the  bridegroom  stood  dangling  his  bonnet  and  plume; 

And  the  bride-maidens  whispered,  "  'Twere  better  by  far, 

To  have  match'd  our  fair  cousin  with  young  Lochinvar ! ' 

One  touch  to  her  hand,  and  one  word  in  her  ear, 
When  they  reach'd  the  hall  door,  and  the  charger  stood  near; 
So  light  to  the  croupe  the  fair  lady  he  swung, 
So  light  to  the  saddle  before  her  he  sprung! 
'She  is  won!  we  are  gone,  over  bank,  bush,  and  scaur; 
They'll  have  fleet  steeds  that  follow,'  quoth  young 
Lochinvar. 

There  was  mounting  'mong  Graemes  of  the  Netherby  clan, 
Forsters,  Fenwicks,  and  Musgraves,  they  rode  and  they  ran, 

[2471 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


There  was  racing  and  chasing,  on  Cannobie  lea, 
But  the  lost  bride  of  Netherby  ne'er  did  they  see. 
So  daring  in  love,  and  so  dauntless  in  war, 
Have  ye  e'er  heard  of  gallant  like  young  Lochinvar? 

Sir  Walter  Scott 


[2iSl 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


OFF  THE  GROUND 

Three  jolly  Farmers 

Once  bet  a  pound 
Each  dance  the  others  would 

Off  the  ground. 
Out  of  their  coats 

They  slipped  right  soon, 
And  neat  and  nicesome 

Put  each  his  shoon. 
One— Two— Three  !— 

And  away  they  go, 
Not  too  fast, 

And  not  too  slow; 
Out  from  the  elm-tree's 

Noonday  shadow, 
Into  the  sun 

And  across  the  meadow. 
Past  the  schoolroom, 

With  knees  well  bent 
Fingers  a-flicking, 

They  dancing  went. 
Up  sides  and  over, 

And  round  and  round, 
They  crossed  click-clacking, 

The  Parish  bound, 
By  Tupman's  meadow 

They  did  their  mile, 

[2491 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Tee-to-tum 

On  a  three-barred  stile. 
Then  straight  through  Whipham, 

Downhill  to  Week, 
Footing  it  lightsome, 

But  not  too  quick, 
Up  fields  to  Watchet, 

And  on  through  Wye, 
Till  seven  fine  churches 

They'd  seen  skip  by — 
Seven  fine  churches, 

And  five  old  mills, 
Farms  in  the  valley, 

And  sheep  on  the  hills; 
Old  Man's  Acre 

And  Dead  Man's  Pool 
All  left  behind, 

As  they  danced  through  Wool. 
And  Wool  gone  by, 

Like  tops  that  seem 
To  spin  in  sleep 

They  danced  in  dream: 
Withy — Wellover — 

Wassop — Wo — 
Like  an  old  clock 

Their  heels  did  go. 
A  league  and  a  league 

And  a  league  they  went, 

[2501 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


And  not  one  weary, 

And  not  one  spent. 
And  lo,  and  behold! 

Past  Willow-cum-Leigh 
Stretched  with  its  waters 

The  great  green  sea. 
Says  Farmer  Bates, 

"I  puffs  and  I  blows, 
What's  under  the  water, 

Why,  no  man  knows!" 
Says  Farmer  Giles, 

"My  wind  comes  weak, 
And  a  good  man  drownded 

Is  far  to  seek." 
But  Farmer  Turvey, 

On  twirling  toes 
Up's  with  his  gaiters, 

And  in  he  goes: 
Down  where  the  mermaids 

Pluck  and  play 
On  their  twangling  harps 

In  a  sea-green  day; 
Down  where  the  mermaids, 

Finned  and  fair, 
Sleek  with  their  combs 

Their  yellow  hair.  .  .  . 
Bates  and  Giles — 

On  the  shingle  sat, 

[253] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Gazing  at  Turvey's 

Floating  hat. 
But  never  a  ripple 

Nor  bubble  told 
Where  he  was  supping 

Off  plates  of  gold. 
Never  an  echo 

Rilled  through  the  sea 
Of  the  feasting  and  dancing 

And  minstrelsy. 
They  called — called — called : 

Came  no  reply: 
Nought  but  the  ripples' 

Sandy  sigh. 
Then  glum  and  silent 

They  sat  instead, 
Vacantly  brooding 

On  home  and  bed, 
Till  both  together 

Stood  up  and  said: — 
"Us  knows  not,  dreams  not, 

Where  you  be, 
Turvey,  unless 

In  the  deep  blue  sea; 
But  excusing  silver — 

And  it  comes  most  willing- 
Here's  us  two  paying 

Our  forty  shilling; 

[2541 


RAJNBOW    GOLD 


7^ 


For  it's  sartin  sure,  Turvey, 

Safe  and  sound, 
You  danced  us  square,  Turvey, 

Off  the  ground!" 

Walter  de  la  Mare 


[255] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


AULD  DADDY  DARKNESS 

Auld  Daddy  Darkness  creeps  frae  his  hole, 
Black  as  a  blackamoor,  blin'  as  a  mole: 
Stir  the  fire  till  it  lowes,  let  the  bairnie  sit, 
Auld  Daddy  Darkness  is  no  wantit  yit. 

See  him  in  the  corners  hidin'  frae  the  licht, 
See  him  at  the  window  gloomin'  at  the  nicht; 
Turn  up  the  gas  licht,  close  the  shutters  a', 
An'  Auld  Daddy  Darkness  will  flee  far  awa\ 

Awa'  to  hide  the  birdie  within  its  cosy  nest, 
Awa'  to  lap  the  wee  flooers  on  their  mither's  breast, 
Awa'  to  loosen  Gaffer  Toil  frae  his  daily  ca\ 
For  Auld  Daddy  Darkness  is  kindly  to  a'. 

He  comes  when  we're  weary  to  wean's  frae  oor  waes, 
He  comes  when  the  bairnies  are  getting  aff  their  claes; 
To  cover  them  sae  cosy,  an'  bring  bonnie  dreams, 
So  Auld  Daddy  Darkness  is  better  than  he  seems. 

Steek  yer  een,  my  wee  tot,  ye'll  see  Daddy  then; 
He's  in  below  the  bed  claes,  to  cuddle  ye  he's  fain; 
Noo  nestle  to  his  bosie,  sleep  and  dream  yer  fill, 
Till  Wee  Davie  Daylight  comes  keekin'  owre  the  hill. 

James  Ferguson 

[256] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Allengham,  William  (1824-1889) 

The  Fairies,  162 

The  Lepracaun,  Ifi 
Arnold,  Matthew  (1822-1888) 

The  Forsaken  Merman,  152 
Blake,  William  (1757-1827) 

Nurse's  Song,  158 

The  Tiger,  98 
Branch,  Anna  Hempstead 
(18-        ) 

A  Song  for  My  Mother,  215 
Browning,  Robert  (1812-1889) 

The  Pied  Piper  of  Hamelin,  109 

Song  ("  The  Year's  at  the  Spring  ")» 
36 
Bunyan,  John  (1628-1688) 

The  Pilgrim,  76 
Burns,  Robert  (1759-1796) 

Bannockburn,  138 

To  a  Mouse,  159 
Byron,  Lord  (1788-1824) 

The  Destruction  of  Sennacherib,  92 

Coleridge,  Samuel  Taylor 
(1772-1834) 

Kubla  Khan,  19 
Colum,  Padraic  (1881-        ) 

The  Terrible  Robber  Men,  100 
Conkling,  Hilda  (1910-        ) 

Tree-Toad,  223 
Cowper,  William  (1731-1800) 

Epitaph  on  a  Hare,  73 
Cunningham,  Allan  (1784-1842) 

A  Sea  Song,  72 

[259] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Davies,  William  H.  (1870-        ) 

Nature's  Friend,  221 
DE  la  Make,  Walteb  (1873-         ) 

Berries,  2k 

Jim  Jay,  197 

Off  the  Ground,  21& 
Dickinson,  Emily  (1830-1886) 

The  Snow,  21k 
Dobell,  Sydney  (1824-1874) 

A  Chanted  Calendar,  11$ 

Emebson,  Ralph  Waldo 
(1803-1882) 
Fable,  lJfi 

Febguson,  James  (?) 

Auld  Daddy  Darkness,  256 

Fbost,  Robebt  (1875-        ) 
Good  Hours,  lkl 

Giffobd,  Fannie  Steabns 
(1884-        ) 

Moon  Folly,  189 
Gbaves,  Robert  (1895-        ) 

Star-Talk,  193 

Hebrick,  Robebt  (1591-1674) 

To  Violets,  38 
Hodgson,  Ralph  (about  1879-       ) 

"  Time,  you  Old  Gipsy  Man,"  12k 
Howe,  Julia  Waed  (1819-1910) 

Battle  Hymn  of  the  Republic,  133 
Hunt,  Leigh  (1784-1859) 

Jaffar,  87 

[2601 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Jonson,  Ben  (1574-1637) 
Hymn  to  Diana,  59 

Keats,  John  (1795-1821) 

La  Belle  Dame  Sans  Merci,  168 
Meg  Merrilies,  22 

Kingsley,  Charles  (1819-1875) 
The  Sands  of  Dee,  231,. 

Lanier,  Sidney  (1842-1881) 
Song  of  the  Chattahoochee,  206 

Lindsay,  Vachel  (1879-        ) 
The  Ghosts  of  the  Buffaloes,  199 

Longfellow,  Henry  Wadsworth 
(1807-1882) 
My  Lost  Youth,  ISO 
The  Skeleton  in  Armor,  237 

Lowell,  James  Russell 
(1819-1891) 
The  Fountain,  217 

Macaulay,  Thomas  Babengton 
(1800-1859) 
Ivry,  94- 
Markham,  Edwin  (1852-        ) 

A  Prayer,  245 
Marlowe,  Christopher 
(1562-1593) 
The  Shepherd  to  His  Love,  62 
Masefield,  John  (1874-        ) 

Sea  Fever,  211 
Milton,  John  (1608-1674) 
On  May  Morning,  39 
[261] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Moore,  Thomas  (1780-1852) 
By  Bendemeer's  Stream,  244 
The  Minstrel-Boy,  137 

Nashe,  Thomas  (1567-1601?) 

Spring,  175 
Notes,  Alfred  (1880-        ) 

A  Song  of  Sherwood,  89 

Poe,  Edgar  Allen  (1809-1849) 
Israfel,  82 

Rossetti,  Christina  (1830-1894) 
A  Christmas  Carol,  203 

Scott,  Sir  Walter  (1771-1832) 
Gathering  Song  of  Donald  Dhu,  135 
Hunting  Song,  44 
Young  Lochinvar,  246 
Shakespeare,  William 
(1564-1616) 
"Blow, Blow, Thou  Winter  Wind" 

108 
Lullaby  for  Titania,  78 
"  Under  the  Greenwood  Tree"  37 
Winter,  14$ 
Shelley,  Percy  Bysshe 
(1792-1822) 
Hymn  of  Pan,  29 
The  Cloud,  145 
Stevenson,  Robert  Louis 
(1850-1894) 
Escape  at  Bedtime,  205 
Romance,  28 

[262] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Swinburne,  Algernon  Charles 
(1837-1909) 
"  When  the  Hounds  of  Spring, "  32 

Tennyson,  Alfred  (1809-1892) 
Bugle  Song,  151 
The  Lady  of  Shalott,  Ifi 

Unknown 

An  Ancient  Christmas  Carol,  225 
An  Old  Christmas  Carol,  226 
An  Old  Song  of  Fairies,  186 
King  John  and  the  Abbot  of  Can* 

terbury,  228 
Robin  Hood  and  the  Butcher,  64 
Sir  Patrick  Spens,  101 
Sister,  Awake!  236 
The  Gay  Gos-Hawk,  178 

Whitman,  Walt  (1819-1892) 
0  Captain!   My  Captainl  212 

Wordsworth,  William 
(1770-1850) 
"I  Wandered  Lonely,"  176 
The  Solitary  Reaper,  128 
Written  in  March,  31 

Yeats,  William  Butler 
(1865-        ) 
The  Song  of  Wandering  Aengus,  60 


(263] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES 

A  wet  sheet  and  a  flowing  sea 72 

An  ancient  story  I'll  tell  you  anon 228 

"Are  you  awake,  Gemelli 193 

As  Joseph  was  a-waukin'      226 

Auld  Daddy  Darkness  creeps  frae  his  hole 256 

Behold  her,  single  in  the  field      128 

Blow,  blow,  thou  winter  wind 108 

Come,  all  you  brave  gallants,  and  listen  a  while      64 

Come,  dear  children,  let  us  away 152 

Come,  follow,  follow  me 186 

Come  live  with  me  and  be  my  love 62 

Do  diddle  di  do 197 

First  came  the  primrose 143 

From  the  forests  and  highlands 29 

Hamelin  Town's  in  Brunswick 109 

He  came  all  so  still 225 

Here  lies,  whom  hound  did  ne'er  pursue 73 

I  bring  fresh  showers  for  the  thirsting  flowers 145 

I  had  for  my  winter  evening  walk 241 

I  must  go  down  to  the  seas  again,  to  the  lonely  sea  and  the  sky  .    .  211 

I  wandered  lonely  as  a  cloud 176 

I  went  out  to  the  hazel  wood 60 

I  will  go  up  the  mountain  after  the  Moon 189 

I  will  make  you  brooches  and  toys  for  your  delight 28 

In  Heaven  a  spirit  doth  dwell 82 

[265] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


In  the  bleak  mid-winter 203 

In  Xanadu  did  Kubla  Khan 19 

Into  the  sunshine 217 

It  sifts  from  leaden  sieves 214 

Jaffar,  the  Barmecide,  the  good  Vizier 87 

Last  night  at  black  midnight  I  woke  with  a  cry 199 

Little  Cowboy,  what  have  you  heard 40 

Mine  eyes  nave  seen  the  glory  of  the  coming  of  the  Lord      ....  133 

My  mother's  hands  are  cool  and  fair 215 

Now  glory  to  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  from  whom  all  glories  are!     ...  94 

Now  the  bright  morning  star,  day's  harbinger 39 

O  Captain!  my  Captain!  our  fearful  trip  is  done 212 

O!  I  wish  the  sun  was  bright  in  the  sky 100 

"O  Mary,  go  and  call  the  cattle  home 234 

"O  well  is  me,  my  gay  gos-hawk 178 

O  what  can  ail  thee,  knight-at-arms 168 

O,  young  Lochinvar  is  come  out  of  the  West! 246 

Often  I  think  of  the  beautiful  town 130 

Old  Meg  she  was  a  Gipsy 22 

On  either  side  the  river  lie 46 

Out  of  the  hills  of  Habersham 206 

Pibroch  of  Donuil  Dhu 135 

Queen  and  Huntress,  chaste  and  fair 59 

Say  what  you  like      221 

Scots,  wha  hae  wi'  Wallace  bled 138 

[266] 


RAINBOW    GOLD 


Sherwood  in  the  twilight,  is  Robin  Hood  awake? 89 

Sister,  awake!  close  not  your  eyes! 236 

"Speak!  speak!  thou  fearful  guest! 237 

Spring,  the  sweet  Spring,  is  the  year's  pleasant  king 175 

Teach  me,  Father,  how  to  go 245 

The  Assyrian  came  down  like  the  wolf  on  the  fold      92 

The  Cock  is  crowing      31 

The  king  sits  in  Dunfermline  toun 101 

The  lights  from  the  parlour  and  kitchen  shone  out 205 

The  Minstrel-boy  to  the  war  is  gone      137 

The  mountain  and  the  squirrel 140 

The  splendor  falls  on  castle  walls 151 

The  year's  at  the  spring 36 

There  was  an  old  woman      24 

There's  a  bower  of  roses  by  Bendemeer's  stream 244 

Three  jolly  Farmers 249 

Tiger!  Tiger!  burning  bright 98 

Time,  you  old  gipsy  man      124 

Tree-toad  is  a  small  gray  person 223 

Under  the  greenwood  tree 37 

Up  the  airy  mountain 162 

Waken,  lords  and  ladies  gay! 44 

Wee,  sleekit,  cow'rin',  tim'rous  beastie 159 

Welcome,  maids  of  honor 38 

When  icicles  hang  by  the  wall 142 

When  the  hounds  of  spring  are  on  winter's  traces 32 

When  the  voices  of  children  are  heard  on  the  green 158 

Who  would  true  valor  see 76 

You  spotted  snakes  with  double  tongue 78 

[267] 


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